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WHAT'S WRONG 



M GomcOs in ^bree Bets 



ai 



FREDERICK BALLARD 



Copyright, 1914, by David Belasco 



New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

28-30 WEST 38th Street 



London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street 

STRAND 



'IfJ^L^ 



WHAT'S WRONG 



CAST. 



George H. Smith A business man 

Perry Dodge Another business man 

Eddie A boy in Smith's office 

WooDROW A boy on Smith's farm 

" Red " 1 

" Heavy " ^ Farmhands. 

" Bill '' J 

Messenger Boy 

Jennie Brown 

Mrs. Perry Dodge 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh 5". P. A. I. H. 

Phoebe Snow 
Flossie 
Agnes 
Tellie 



SCENES. 

Act I. New York City. 

Act H. Ne-W' Jersey. 

Act lU. a N^-:tv York subsurb. 



Time. — Present 


MAY -5 I'^i^ 


t 


2 
)C1.D 3()9'12 . 


^^V/ 



r 



WHAT'S WRONG 



^\ 



ACT I 



Scene: — The private office of the George H. Smith 
Land Company. 

To R. and L. of center, rear wall, are windows 
through zvhich can be seen the roofs of lower 
office' buildings, church steeples and a general 
view of the city and harbor. 
At c. of R. wall, a door leading into general 
office and waiting-room. Rear wall, near r. 
corner, a door opening into stenographer's 
room. When this door is open, the stenog- 
raphers desk, typewriter, etc., can be seen. 
Left corner, a clothes cabinet. l. c. and 
against wall, a large filing case for filing copies 
of deeds and other legal papers. L. C, and 
well down, a fiat desk. Behind it a pivot chair. 
To R. of it, a straight chair. Upon it, a tele- 
phone and two stacks of legal looking manu- 
scripts covered with light blue paper covers. 
The stack at upper end of desk is neatly ar- 
ranged; the stack at lower end is scattered. 
Aat lower end of desk, on its down-stage side, 
is a speaking tube, or hose, and a push button. 
{This tube is connected with the outer office). 
On the L. Tvall is a large map of North America. 
The rear and right walls are decorated with 



4 WHAT'S WRONG. 

enlarged framed photographs of viezvs in 
regions where Smith has land interests. 
Following the rise of the curtain, there is a 
slight pause during Tvhich the ticking of the 
typewriter keys is heard off rear. Then Smith 
enters briskly, R. d. 

Smith is a good-looking man, sometvhat tall 
and, although hut 35 years of age, looks much 
older. He wears a dark business suit which 
needs pressing, and a black derby hat; has the 
haggard expression of a sleepless, over-worked, 
improperly fed office man zvho is alzvays under 
high nervous tension and constant activity. 
He does everything rapidly — reads, talks, 
moves, thinks rapidly. In fact so great is his 
''speed'' and so tremiendous the nervous pres- 
sure under zuhich he incessantly works, that 
one wonders how he can keep it up. His gen- 
eral appearance, zvhich is somezvhat careless, 
is that of an idtra-busy mono-ambitious man. 
As Smith enters, the telephone, rings. Smith 
hastens to desk and grabs 'phone from desk 
and jerks its receiz'er from hook. 

Smith, (Quickly and almost savagely) Hello! 
— Yes ! — You've got the wrong Smith ! (lamming 
the receiver into its hook, he puts the telephone 
on the desk, presses button and seizes speaking- 
tube. In speaking-tube:) Tell Miss Waite to come 
in right away. (He drops the tube and starts to- 
wards clothes cabinet. Telephone rings again. He 
rushes to desk and jerks receiver from hook) 
Hello ! — Yes— Yes, this is the George H. Smith 
Campany ! — Minnesota land ? — How much ? — You 
bet your life I'll buy it — Any time. I'm always 
here! (lams receiver into hook and jerks out 
watch) Two minutes all shot to thunder! (Enter 
Flossie Waite, somezifhat listlessly, rear door. 
She is the conventional stenographer—dark skirt. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 5 

ivhite shirt-waist, black tie and fluffy hair. 20, vain 
and flippant. She is quite jaded because she danced 
late the night before. As she crosses to desk. Smith 
thrusts ivatch into pocket and jerks a long, legal- 
looking document from his inside-coat pocket. 
Manuscript is folded three times. To save time, 
Smith hastens to Flossie. Polite but in a hurry) 
Make two copies of this. {Shoving it into her 
hand) File one and bring the other to me, quick! 
(Returns quickly to desk and Flossie starts de- 
liherately toivard rear door) That document des- 
cribes valuable land in Dakota, so be careful. 

Flossie. (Glancing over shoulder at him and a 
trifle impudently) I'm always careful. (Smith 
jerks off hat and hangs it in cabinet) 

Smith. (Impatiently to Flossie, now at rear 
door) Vm going to South America to-morrow and 
there's a million things Fve got to straighten up 
before I leave. Hurry! (Flossie glances at him 
resentfidly. She doesn't intend to hurry for any- 
one. Then, tilting her head arrogantly, she exits 
rear door) 

(Enter Eddik. the office boy, R. d. He enters 
briskly with a cablegram envelope and goes to- 
wards desk, but Smith meets him to r. of it. ) 

Eddie. (Holding out envelope) Cablegram. 

(SiiiTH grabs it, rips it open, reads it hastily, 
Eddie, meanwhile, exits briskly R. d. The 
cablegram read. Smith pushes push-button 
and seizes speaking tube.) 

Smith. (In tube) Miss Waite. For dictation ! 
Right away! (Dropping tube, he picks up cable- 
gram and paces up and dozim left. Re-enter 
Flossie rear d., note-book in hand. As she enters) 
Cablej^ram for South America! (Flossie, taking 



6 WHAT'S WRONG. 

her time, starts towards the desk; Smith watches 
her a moment^ as if puzzled, then pleasantly 
ironical) Are you ill or in love? 

Flossie. Neither. 

Smith. {Exasperated but supplicatingly, not 
harshly) Then for goodness' sake, hurry! (Flos- 
sie goes to desk as deliberately as before and sits 
to R. of it. Smith, pacing, dictates rapidly) Senor 
Pedro Alphonso Monto Carlo DePisa, Buenos 
Ayres, Argentine, Got it? 

Flossie. Yes. 

Smith. (Dictating) Yours received. Sailing 
to-morrow. Meet you Buenos Ayres. Smith. 
(Tossing cablegram to desk) Call a messenger and 
send it at once. (He grabs telephone and Flossie 
rises. During follozving, she goes deliberately up 
to rear door. In telephone) Bryant 8763. (Im- 
patient. Central has misunderstood him) No, no! 
Bryant! William Cullen Thanatopsis Bryant! 
(Slight pause) It's been busy all day! When its 
open, call me! John 486. (As he jams receiver 
into hook Fddie enters R. d. ) 

Eddie. (At door) A gentleman from Maine. 

Smith. (Sharply, as he sits in pivot chair) 
What does he want? 

Eddie. He wants to trade an island in a lake for 
an automobile. 

Smith. This is a land office — not a garage. 
(Grabs manuscript and jerks it open) 

Eddie. But he says 

Smith. (Emphatically) Busy! 

Eddie. (Meekly) Yes, sir. {Exits r. 1^. ) 

(As Eddie exits. Smith glances at Flossie zvho is 
now at rear d.) 

Smith. Miss Waite. (Flossie stops and 
glances at him. Then ironically but not rudely) 
That cablegram is to be sent now — to-day. (The 



WHAT'S WRONG. . 7 

telephone rings. Smith snatches it. Exit Flossik 
uppishly rear d., during follonmig. In telephone) 
Bryant 8763? {Annoyed) Oh! — {Mellowing) 
Oh, hello, Perr}\ What is it?^ — Out to your place 
for dinner? — This evening? Impossible! — Sorry! 
G'bye. {As he jams receiver into hook, enter 

F.ODIE) 

Eddie. A gentleman from Mexico. 

Smith. Busy! {Begins to read MS.) 

Eddie. He says he has some of the finest land 
in the world. 

Smith. {Rapidly reading) Tell him to fortify 
it. Then I'll talk business. 

Eddie. But he says 

Smith. {Glaring at him) Busy! 

Eddie. {Jumping) Yes, sir. {Exit quickly) 

Smith. {In telephone) Bryant 8763? — Perry, I 
tell you I can't come out! G'bye! {He jams re- 
ceiver into hook. Enter Eddie, card in hand. He 
hastens to Smith zvho snatches card from him and 
(fiances at it) Who is she? What does she look 
like? 

Eddie. Solid. 

Smith. Show her in — quick. 

Eddie. Yes, sir. {Starts tozvards door naturally) 

Smith. Hurry! (Eddie exits quickly) 

Smith. {Scowling at card) Mrs. Lee-Hugh, 
hy])henated. {Adjusts his tie quickly. Eddie opens 
R. D.. and steps aside; Mrs. Lee-Hugh strides into 
room. She is a large and very striking society wo- 
man of 45, strikingly gowned. Exit Eddie, closing 
door quietly. Going to welcome her. Politely, hut 
rapidly) Mrs. Lee-Hugh? {Indicating chair at r. 
of desk) Sit down! {Sitting as she crosses to 
chair) What can I do for you — city property or a 
farm? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Sitting in front of him) 
Horse money. 

Smith. ( Dum bfo u n ded ) What ? 



8 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Calmly and plainly) Horse 
money. 

Smith. Are you in the wrong office or is this 
blackmail ? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Neither. You are Mr. 
George H. Smith and / am a bona fide solicitor for 
the Society for the Preservation of Aged and In- 
digent Horses. 

Smith. Madam, Lm entirely too busy to monkey 
with horses. (Looks at his watch) 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. But we want every successful 
business man in New York to make at least one 
poor, old, wornout horse happy. 

Smith. (Impatiently, as he jerks open upper 
drawer of desk) How much? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Very deliberately and 
sweetly) Well, out on our retired-horse farm in 
New Jersey where the cost of living is comparatively 
low, an old horse can live nicely on two dollars a 
day. 

Smith. So can 1 and I don't have to go to Jersey, 
either. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (With a very, very szveet 
smile) Ah, but you are not a horse. 

Smith. (Politely, but ironically) Does that in- 
clude music and flowers? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. No, sir — just oats and hay and 
a nice warm blanket to sleep in. 

Smith. (As he opens check book which he has 
taken from, desk drawer) Wliat is to be the dura- 
tion of this equestrian bliss? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Perplexed) I don't quite 
understand you. 

Smith. How long am I supposed to pension the 
animal ? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. For life. 

Smith. (Looking at her shrewdly) How long 
is life? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Until the horse dies. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 9 

Smith. But how will I know when it dies? 
Mrs. Lee-Hugh. We shall send you its funeral 

bill; 

Smith. Do you think for one minute that I'm 
going to squander money that way ? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Rising, indignant) Why, 
Mr. Smith, you were recommended to me as a man 
with a tender heart! A man who would never, 
never, never — (She becomes dramatic) 

Smith. (Dipping pen in ink) I'll pension one 
horse one month. If he isn't dead then, give him 
gas. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (As Smith writes check) Oh, 
I'm sure you'll keep right on pensioning him. 
(Flatteringly) Big men, like you, always do. 

Smith. (Rips check from book) Who recom- 
mended me to you? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Smiling) A friend. 

Smith. (Rising) Yours or mine? (Shoving 
check at her) There you are — one month, including 
Saturday afternoons and Sundays. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. On behalf of a poor old horse, 
I thank you. (She bows deeply) 

Smith. (He tosses check book into drawer of 
desk and hastens r. d. to open it) Don't mention 
it ! I'm going to South America to-morrow and I'm 
busier than a man paying double alimony. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Following him, preter.ding to 
be worried over the fact) I hope I haven't inter- 
rupted you. 

Smith. (Politely) Not at all! (Opens door 
and steps aside) Good day ! 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Smiling as she exits) Au re- 
voir ! 

Smith. Good-bye. (Exit Mrs. Lee-Hugh r. 
D. As Smith closes door behind Mrs. Lee-Hugh, 
re-enter Flossie rear door, carrying manuscript) 
Now, what's the matter? 



lo WHAT'S WRONG. 

Flossie. (Rather brazenly) Does this mean 
North Dakota or South Dakota? 

Smith. North, of course! Did you ever hear of 
a Bismark, South Dakota? It says Bismark, doesn't 
it? 

Flossie. (Impudently) Yes, but how do I know 
where Bismark is? Fm not a human geography. 

Smith. (Sternly, hut not rudely) Give me that. 
(Holds out hand for manuscript and Flossie gives 
it to him. He takes twenty-dollar hank-note from 
his zvallet and shoves it at Flossie) Here's two 
weeks' notice. Put on your hat and coat and take 
the first elevator going down. (She doesn't take the 
bank-note) 

Flossie. (Surprised and feigning innocence) 
What have I done? 

Smith. Nothing! That's why Fm discharging 
you. You've done nothing the last two weeks but 
kill time and sass back. And here Fm up to my 
ears in work ! and you stand there sassing back be- 
cause Bismark's in North Dakota. (Thrusting 
hank-note into her hand) Now take this and go. 

Flossie. (With an impudent little smile) All 
right. T should fume and get fussy — wrinkles. 
{Goes leisurely toward r. d. Smith seises tele- 
phone) 

Smith. (In 'phone) Typewriter Exchange! 
Hurry! (Enter Eddie r. d. , card in hand. Flossh-: 
at R. D.. grins at Smith's hack, then exits. Eddii: 
crosses hriskly to Smith and holds card in front of 
him so that he can read it, Smith's hands being oc- 
cupied holding 'phone. Smith glances at card, then 
sternly) What does she look like? 

Eddie. (Confidentially. He zvants to warn 
Smith against seeing her) Just between you and 
me, Mr. Smith, she looks like a high-priced sten- 
ographer. 

Smith. Good! Send her in I Quick! (Bangs 
telephone doivn on desk) 



WHAT'S WRONG. ii 

Eddie. (Completely surprised) But you said 
yesterday 

Smith. Never mind yesterday — this is to-day! 

Eddie. (Meekly) Yes, sir. (Goes briskly to r. 
D.. and exits. As Eddie crosses to r. d., the tele- 
phone rings. Smith seises it) 

Smith. (In telephone) Hello — Yes, but I don't 
want it now. I've got one coming. You people are 
too slow for New York — move to Baltimore. (Jams 
receiver in hook and as he replaces 'phone on desk, 
re-enter Flossie r. d. She has her hat in her hand) 

Flossie. (Just inside r. d., and somewhat 
meekly) Mr. Smith. 

Smith. (Without looking at her, seating him- 
self) Yes. 

Flossie. (Strictly business — not with feeling or 
sincerity) H I apologize, will you take me back? 

Smith. (Firmly, but not rudely) No. Once I 
discharge a person, she's discharged. I never take 
her back. 

Flossie. But 

Smith. (Finally) No! 

Flossie. (Savagely) Then don't ! I didn't want 
to work for you anyway. There's nothing in this 
ofifice but business. 

(She slaps on her hat and jabs hat- pin into it. As 
she pins on her hat, Eddie opens door r. d. and 
steps aside. Enter Jennie Brown, r. d., Eddie 
exiting and closing door quietly. Jennie is an 
attractive girl of 22, intelligent, refined, unas- 
suming and democratic. She wears a pretty, 
street suit made of good material. It is very 
becoming to her and is in good taste. Her 
general appearance gives the impression that 
she is a girl with lots of common sense, gentle 
disposition, strength of character and although 
raised in the midst of luxury, yet she possesses 
a natural resourcefulness and a charm that will 



12 WHAT'S WRONG. 

enable her to meet any emergency and over- 
come every obstacle. Her chief characteristics 
are: a good sense of humor, tact, gentleness, 
simplicity, sympathy and capability. As Jennie 
enters, Flossie "' takes her in " zmth a side 
glance and exits r. d., snappishly.) 

Smith. (Rising and very politely, though 
rapidly, to Jennie) How-do-you-do? What can T 
do for you? Are you a — (Pauses. He is afraid to 
say " stenographer " because he isn't at all sure she 
looks like a stenographer. Slight pause during 
which Smith looks at her admiringly) 

Jennie. (Pleasantly. She is standing at r. d.) 
A what? (A door slams violently immediately off 
rear. Jennie, somezvhat startled, glances at rear 
door) 

Smith. (Reassuringly) Don't be alarmed. (As 
she glances at him) That's only my stenographer — ■ 
leavino^. (Indicating, chair r. of desk) Be seated. 

Jennie. Thank you. (As she starts tozvard 
chair, Smith glances at watch. Jennie sees him 
and stops. Then pleasantly and tactfully) Am I 
interferino^ with 

Smith. (Interrupting. Polite, but rapid) Not 
at all! Not at all! Sit down! (As Jennie sits at 
R. of desk, Smith sits in pivot chair. As he sits) 
Er — (Not quite certain zvhat she is — meaning to 
draw her out) Er — what can I do for you — city 
property or a farm? 

Jennie. Neither. (Smith looks at her curi^ 
ously. He doesn't know zvhether she is a steno- 
grapher out of a job or some kind of agent) I want 
to ask you to please make at least one little poor 
boy happy. 

Smith. (Impatiently, but trying to be polite) I 
just got through making a horse happy, and besides, 
I'm entirely too busy to monkey with kids. 

Jennie. (Kindly, yet somewhat drolly) I'm not 



WHAT'S WRONG. 13 

asking you to monkey with kids, Mr. Smith. We 
do that at the Settlement House. {Offers the card 
or credential she shozvs zvhen she collects money) 

Smith. (Apologetic — just glances at card) T 
beg your pardon.' {Opens desk drawer, grabs check 
hook, slams drawer shut, slaps check book on desk, 
jerks it open and seizes pen. Then, glancing im- 
patiently at Jennie ivho has been watching him 
closely) How much? 

Jennie. {Deliberately and pleasantly) If you 
can spare it conveniently, enough to keep one little 
boy in the country all summer. 

Smith. {Suspiciously) Two dollars a day? 

Jennie. In the country — not at the St Regis. 
(Smiling) That would keep four little boys. 

Smith. (Writing check) How long is summer? 

Jennie. Fifty dollars. 

Smith. Thanks! (Writing check rapidly) Your 
name, please? 

Jennie. The Sunshine Settlement House. 

Smith. {Meriting rapidly) Sunshine Settlement 
House, Fifty dollars. (Jennie watches him curi- 
ously and sympathetically. She is interested in him 
because of his extreme nervousness and hurry-hurry 
habit. The check ivritten. Smith blots it quickly 
and vigorously, then rips it out of book and offers 
it to her) There you are ! One boy — one summer! 

Jennie. {Pleasantly as she accepts check) You 
were a boy yourself once, weren't you? 

Smith. (Rapidly and impatiently ^ut not rudely) 
Don't mention it. (Grabs telephone. Then, in tele- 
phone ) Flello ! Give me the Typewriter Exchange. 
Quick ! 

Jennie. (Politely and as if sympathidng with 
liim in his predicament) Pardon me, but do you 
need a stenographer? 

Smith. {Emphatically) Need one? There isn't 
anything in the world I'd rather have right now 
than a real good — {In telephone) Hello! Type- 



H WHAT^S WRONG. 

writer Exchange? Call a taxi and send the fastest 
stenographer you've got to George H. Smith right 
away — (Surprised and exasperated) To-morrow? 
I'll be half way to South America to-morrow — 
{Angrily) Say what kind of an institution is this? 
I want one nozir. G'bye. (Jams receiver on hook 
savagely ) 

Jennie. (Kindly. She has been watching him 
calmly but interestedly during the above) Perhaps 
I can help you. 

Saiith. (Emphatically, implying that no settle- 
ment worker can help him) I need a stenographer f 

Jennie. (Simply) I believe you — that is why 
I volunteered my services. 

Smith. {Dumbfounded) Are you a — — 

Jennie. Not a professional, but 

Smith. (Interrupting and anxiously) Can you 
take dictation? 

Jennie. Yes — when it is given. 

Smith. (Quickly) Fast? 

Jennie. If you give it fast. (Smith, tickled to 
death, springs to his feet, grabs a handful of blank 
writing paper and slaps it down on desk in front of 
[ennie. Then grabs pen and shoves it at her) 

Smith. (Eagerly and pen in hand) Take this 
letter. Quick ! 

Jennie. (Calmly and drolly) My gloves are on. 

Smith. (Politely, but trying to " speed " her up) 
Take them off! (As Jennie begins to unbutton 
right glove) Let me help you. (Drops pen on desk 
and, in order to save time, grabs her left hand, and' 
in his characteristic, hurry-up zvay, unbuttons the 
glove and tries to pull it off. His haste makes him 
awkward. When this scene is at its height — ) 

Jennie. (He is hurting her somezvhat) Oh! 
(The 'phone rings but Smith keeps on pulling 
glove) Oh! (It rings again. Smith glances at it 
but does not lessen business zvith glove) 

Smith. (To telephone) Busy! (Smith jerks 



WHAT'S WRONG. 15 

off the glove, the 'phone rings again. Smith tosses 
glove on desk and sehes 'phone) Hello! — I did but 
J don't now. I've got one! {Replacing 'phone 
^ngorously on desk) 

Jennie. (Mothering hand) Do you remove 
Mrs. Smith's gloves very often? 

Smith. There isn't any 

Jennie. Too busy? 

(Smith gives her a, quick, sharp glance. The 
twinkle in her eyes changes to sober serious- 
ness. Smith seizes the pen and thrusts it at 
Jennie.) 

Smith. Here I 

Jennie. I'm sorry, but you took off the wrong 
glove. (Smith, amazed at his stupidity, gazes at 
her blankly) I write with my right. {Takes the 
pen deliberately from his hand, lays it carefully on 
the desk, then begins to remove the right glove. 
Smith glances impatiently at the glove he removed, 
then seizes the speaking tube and pushes button) 

Smith. (In the tube) Fetch me a coco-cola. 
(Glances at Jennie, who is removing right glove) 
And hurry ! (Drops tube and goes around l. end of 
desk to help Jennie remove glove. At the word 
"hurry," Jennie glances at him, sideways. She 
wonders if he is a chronic hurry-up man) 

Jennie. (Curiously, but looking at glove, as 
Smith comes toward her) Are you always this 
busy ? 

SivrrTH. No, sometimes I'm busier. (Referring 
to glove which he wants to help her remove) Allow 
me. 

Jennie. (Still busy zvith glove) Thank you. 
Init — (She glances at him. He sees the handle of 
her hat-pins, one on each side of the hat, and reaches 
for them. His arms, as he reaches for the hat-pins, 
look as if they zvere going to embraee Jennie. 
She starts to rise) 



i6 WHAT'S WRONG, 

Smith. Sit still. I'm not going to hurt you. 
{He plucks hat- pins quickly and simultaneously 
from hat) 

Jennie. As I said, J am not a professional steno- 
grapher. 

Smith. {Removing her hat) I don't care what 
you are so long as you do the work. {Plucks right 
glove — nozv removed — out of Jennie's hand, picks 
up left glove from desk and thus ladened — her hat 
in one hand and her gloves and hat- pins in other 
hand — begins to dictate rapidly) F. H. Henderson, 
Winnipeg, Canada. (Jennie picks up pen, hut he- 
fore she can write, Smith interrupts her) Wait a 
minute. {Clutches her hat under his left arm) 

Jennie. {Anxious over hat — rising) Mr. 
Smith ! 

Smith. {Blankly) What's the matter? 

Jennie. My hat! 

Smith. ' {Apologetic as Jennie takes hat from 
under his arm) I beg your pardon. Is it hurt? 

Jennie. {Examining hat) Not fatally, but 

( Smith grahs the document from r. coat pocket 
and shoves it at her.) 

Smith. Copy this — it's more important. {Takes 
her hat and she takes the document. Smith dashes 
to clothes cabinet,. ]\L^m'E. watching him. When he 
stops at cabinet) 

Jennie. {Politely) Where shall I copy it ? 

Smith. {Somewhat ungratiously at he hangs her 
hat next to his own) On the typewriter. (Jennie 
glances around to locate the typewriter) 

Jennie. Have you one? 

Smith. {Pointing glove-filled hand at rear door) 
There ! In there ! 

Jennie. Thank you. {She starts toward rear 
door and Smith hangs the gloves on clothes hooks — ■ 
each glove on a hook. Then he glances at Jennie, 
ivho is now at rear door) 



WHAT'S WRONG. 17 

Smith. Hurry ! (Jennie, startled, jumps. 
Then she glances at him) Hurry ! 

Jennie. (Politely) Yes, sir. Shall I open the 
door or jump through it? (Telephone rings) 
Smith dashes down to desk and seises telephone. 
Exit Jennie rear door. She watches Smith curi- 
ously jmtil she closes door) 

Smith. (In 'pRone) Plaza 8763? (Disgusted) 
No ! No, Perry ! Don't come over ! No ! ! (As he 
replaces ' pJione ,on desk, enter Eddie r. d., carrying 
a glass of coco-cola. As Eddie crosses to him:) 
If Perry Dodge comes to the office, don't let him 
in. Understand? 

Eddie. (As Smith grabs glass of coco-cola) 
Yes, sir. (Starts towards r. d. Smith drinks the 
coco-cola quickly. Re-enter Jennie r. d.. carrying 
the document) 

Jennie. (Politely, as she enters) Pardon me, 
Mr. Smith, but — (Eddie, about to e.vit r. d., stops 
iiud stares at her in amazement) 

Smith. (Impatiently) Now what's the matter? 
{Puts coco-cola glass on desk, starts towards Jen- 
nie, sees Eddie staring at her and, emphatically, to 
Eddie:) Busy! (Eddie jumps and exits quickly) 

Jennie. (Politely, she is now near Smith) 
Does this mean Bismark, North Dakota? 

Smith. Of course! 

Jennie. (Politely and trying to smile) It says 
simply Dakota. 

Smith. (Impatient) Did you ever hear of 
Bismark, South Dakota? 

Jennie. Not frequently, but 

Smith. It is the capital of North Dakota! 

Jennie. The map shows also a Bismark, South 
Dakota. 

Smith. Fetch me the map. 

Jennie. Don't you believe me? 

Smith. (Emphatically) Fetch me that map I 



t8 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Jennie. {Surprised and shocked) Mr. 
Smith ! 

Smith. {Angrily) Did you hear what I said? 

Jennie. (Self-possessed) Yes, sir, but 

Smith. Then mind! (Jennie looks at him de- 
liberately and thoughtfully) Hurry! (Slight 
pause during ivhich they look at each other, Smith 
scowling impatiently, Jennie contemplatively ca^m 
Then : ) 

Jennie. (Calmly and somewhat slowly but 
finally) I haven't worked for you very long, Mr. 
Smith, but I think I have worked long enough. 

Smith. (Quickly) What do you mean? 

Jennie. I mean that I am through. 

Smith. What! 

Jennie. {Calm but emphatic) I am through. 

Smith. You haven't begun yet. (Jennie lays 
MSS. on the desk) 

Jennie. Nevertheless I am through. T don't 
propose to help a man who insults me. 

Smith. {Impatiently insistent) I didn't insult 
you. 

Jennie. You doubted my veracity. Please get 
me my hat. 

Smith. I simply said, " Fetch the map! " 

Jennie. (Indicating clothes cabinet) My hat 
and gloves, please. 

Smith. (Pepperishly angry, exasperated) All 
right ! Go ! Go ! Quit ! I haven't time to put the 
soft-pedal on everything I say. {He hastens up to 
clothes cabinet and gets her hat and gloves. Jen Nil*: 
watches him. As he comes briskly down towards 
desk, carrying her hat and gloves) Remember, I 
am a busy man. 

Jennie. (As she accepts gloves and hat) 
Gentlemen are never too busy to be polite. 

Smith. (Brusquely and finally) T beg your 
l)ardon, but business is business. 

Jennie. {Cahnly, after Smith has gone angrily 



WHAT'S WRONG. 19 

to desk) Not with you, Mr. Smith. {Puts on hat) 
Smith. {Glancing at her quickly; he is puzded 
and surprised) What? 

Jennie. {Shoving hat-pins in hat) With you, 
husiness is a mania. No wonder your stenographer 
left. She should have. They all should. I don't 
blame her for slamming the door. Good-day. 

{Exit R. D.. Smith staring at her. He starts to- 
wards R. D., as if to call her back, halts, 
hastens back to desk, seizes speaking tube with 
one hand and presses call-button on desk 
7'igorously with thumb of other hand.) 

Smith. {Sharply, in speaking tube) Miss — 
{Can't recall her name) The new stenographer! 
Send her back! Right away! {Drops speaking 
tube and hastens up to left window and opens it. 
Re-enter Jennie. She is putting on gloves. Stands 
near door) 

Smith. {Politely as he goes rapidly towards 
desk) That was Bismark, North Dakota. {Picks 
up the manuscript and hastens to her) 

Jennie. Thank you, but I am no longer inter- 
ested in the whereabouts of Bismark. {She turns 
to leave) 

Smith. {Kindly) Wait a minute. (Jennie 
pauses and glances at him) I didn't mean to hurt 
your feelings. {He offers her the manuscript, but 
she doesn't take it) 

Jennie. {Busy with gloves) Maybe not. But 
when a person volunteers to help another person, 
it does hurt to be called a — {Glances at him) Sup- 
pose / had an office and you offered to help me, 
how would you like to have me call you a liar? 

Smith. I didn't call you a 

Jennie. Practically — you implied it. 

Smith. I know — I do speak hastily sometimes; 
but I don't mean anything by it. 



20 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Jennie. Just the same it hurts — especially when 
you're telling the truth — and are not accustomed 
to — {Wiping her eyes) to that kind of treatment. 

Smith. I am sorry — and I apologize. 

Jennie. You should. 

Smith. The land described is in North Dakota. 
{He offers the manuscript to Jennie) Please! 

Jennie. {Paying no attention to MSS.) I'm not 
over-sensitive, Mr. Smith, but I don't like to be 
wounded. 

Smith. {Reassuringly sympathetic) Why, I 
wouldn't wound you intentionally for anything in 
the world. Miss — why, there isn't one girl in a 
thousand who'd come into a business man's office 
soliciting funds for the poor and then volunteer to 
step into the breach and be his stenographer. That's 
the kind of a girl men admire. You aren't going 
to leave me, are you? {Pause, then offers MSS. 
again) Please. If you stay I'll double your wages. 

Jennie. I'm not working for wages. 

Smith. What are you working for? 

Jennie. To help you. {Takes MSS.) 

Smith. I'm awfully sorry I hurt your feelings. 
{Raises hands to remove her hat but she hands him 
the MSS.) 

Jennie. {Trying to smile) I'll take it off this 
time. I'm just a trifle superstitious. 

Smith. {Quickly and somewhat emphatically, 
MSS. in hand) So am I. {Loudly) Eddie! 
{Starts tozvards desk, frozvning as if cursing him- 
self. Jennie watches him, puzzled, anxious. En- 
ter Eddie) 

Eddie. {Entering) Yes, sir. 

Smith. Run over to Fleishman's and get a box 
of flowers for — for the young lady. 

Eddie. Yes, sir. (Jennie goes towards rear 
door) 

Smith. Hurry! (Eddh-: dashes off r. d. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 21 

Politely) Miss — {Pauses beeause he can't remem- 
ber her name. Jennie stops. Re-enter Eddie) 

Eddie. What kind of flowers? 

Smith. All kinds ! And make it speedy ! {Exit 
Eddie quickly. Smith hastens to desk) 

Jennie. Thank you for- the flowers, Mr. Smith. 

Smith. Don't thank me I Don't! We haven't 
time for that ! 

Tennie. (Politely) I beg your pardon. 

Smith. That's all right ! (Tozvard r. d.) Eddie ! 
Eddie ! (Then to Jennie, who is nozv at rear door) 
What play do you want to see to-night? {Re-enter 
Iu^die) 

Eddie. Yes, sir. 

Smith. Stay in the ofhce till I tell you to go. 

Eddie. Yes, sir. {Exit) 

Smith. [To Jennie as Eddii<: exits) 1>11 me — - 
what play to-night? 

Jennie. None. 

Smitei. To-morrow night? 

Jennie. (Smiling) 1 shall be busy telling a 
room full of ambitious little foreigners about the 
Father of their country — George Washington. 

Smith. Next night, then? {Picks up speaking- 
lube and presses button) 

Jennie. {Going tozvards him) Don't get thea- 
tre tickets, Mr. Smith. Please don't. 

Smith. All right, then, I'll get you some more 
flowers. 

Jennie. {Modestly yielding) If you zvill, 
])lease send them over to the Settlement House. 
My poor children like flowers almost as much as 
tkicy dislike soap. 

Smith. {In speaking-tube, and in great haste) 
Rush over to Fleishman's and tell him to send all his 
flowers out to the Sunlight Settlement House. 

Jennie. {Dumbfounded and in remonstrance) 
Not all of them ! 

Smith, {fn speaking-tube) Wait a minute! 



22 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Jen NIK. A few of each kind will be plenty. 

Smith. {In tube) Eddie! {Pushes button 
I'igorously) Plenty of each kind will be plent^^ 
And hurry I {He drops the tube. To Jennie) 
And if you happen to change your mind and do 
want to go to a play to-night, Eddie will lake you. 
Sorry / haven't time to. 

Jennie. {Smiling, eyes him. He is too lusv to 
think that she might not care to go with him) 
Thank you. Eddie looks like a very nice little boy, 
but I — I am quite sure that I won't change my 
mind — {Exit rear door. Smith zvatches her ad- 
miringly until she closes door, then jerks out zvatch 
and frowns at it) 

Smith. {Disgusted with himself) Fourteen 
minutes all shot to thunder! {Thrusts ivatch back 
into pocket, hastens to pivot chair, sits, grabs a docu- 
ment and begins to read it frantically. Pause, dur- 
ing iih.ch clicking of typewriter is heard off rear and 
the tinkling of the bell on the machine. Smith 
listens to the rapid clicking, satisfied) Ah 1 Quick 
worker 1 

{Reads hurriedly whistling. Enter Perry Dodge r. 
D. Perry is a man of Smith's age and height, 
but much stouter and healthier. He has broad 
shoulders, a nice, comfortable, prosperous- 
looking stomach and is zvelTfed and happy. 
Democratic in dress and unassuming in manner. 
He imprcses one as being a very successful, 
generous, sensible, optimistic, clean-minded, 
hame-loving, country-raised, business man — of 
simple tastes — a self-made man zvho has his 
business so completely under his control that he 
has plenty of time for everything he zvants to 
do. JVears a business suit of good material and 
well-made, but modest in color and pattern, 
and a Fedora hat. His chief characteristics 
arc an optimistic smile, a big nature, and genu- 



WHAT'S WRONG. 23 

me frankness. As he enters, he closes door 
quietly; goes to desk, sits R. of it, watches 
Smith who is unazvare of his presence, then 
slips his hat over the manuscript which Smith 
is reading. Smith starts, as if seeing things, 
then looks up.) 

Perry. Hel-lo, George! 

Smith. (Angrily) I told you to stay away 
from here, Perry! 

Perry. (Good-naturedly) Do you think I would 
stay away from a life-long friend simply because 
he told me to? 

Smith. (Hotly) I meant it! 

(Perry smiles broadly, then begins to tap desk 
slowly with forefinger.) 

Perry. George, Majorie and I want you to come 
out to our place to-day for dinner. 

Smith. (Trying to reason zvith him) If I 
ha\en't time to eat here, how in thunder can I go 
way out to your place to eat? (Turns impatiently 
to desk) 

!M:rrn-. What's your hurry, (iecjrge? 

Saijth. I've got to hurry ! 

Perry. (Genially) In the long run, I accomplish 
just as much as you do, but I work deliberately. 
And look at me! (Pats stomach proudly) 

Smith. You were built that way. 

Perry. (Smiling) No, I wasn't. The day you 
and I cast our first presidential vote back home, we 
tipped the scales at identically the same mark, and 
\ou were just as big around the waist as I was. 
Since then — {Glancing proudly at his own stomach) 
Well, look at my equator — and then at yours. 
George, there isn't a happier man in this whole 
broad country than 1 am. And why? I repeat 
my (|uestion--Why ? 



24 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. {Inipatienly and somewhat impetuously^ 
as he glances nervously at zvatch) Why? I'll bite. 
Why? 

Perry. Simply because I don't try to do three 
men's work, three times too fast. 

Smith. ( Rapidly and with concealed irony^ 
You don't have to ! You're selling hulled corn — 
something to eat. I have to appeal to a man's in- 
tellect. 

Perry. {Good-naturedly and buoyantly) George, 
you need a little vacation and 

Smith. {Impatiently) But I tell you I can't 

go. 

Perry. {Good-naturedly) Yes, you can. We 
are going to take a train at the Grand Central ; and 
my hired man is going to meet us at the depot with 
the family carriage — just like the old folks used 
to do back home when company was coming. And 
Marjorie is going to meet you at the front gate 
and take you into the house and set you down to 
the finest meal you've had since you left the dear 
old home state. Yes, sir-ree ! 

Smith. {Shaking his head) Yes, but 

Perry. After dinner, you are going to spend 
the night with us. I will wager that it has been 
weeks and weeks since you've had one good big 
snore. 

Smith. I'm too busy to snore! 

Perry. In the morning, you are going to have 
some berries fresh from our garden. 

Smith. {Rises. Coaxingly, as he goes around 
up-side of desk to him) Now look here, Perry — 
(Perry rises and places hand on Smith's shoulder) 

Perry. {Pleasantly and deliberately) George, 
five years ago to-night Marjorie and I were married. 
Remember ? 

Smith. I ought to — I was your best man. 

Perry. Now, we want you to help us celebrate. 
(He forces Smith gently back into his chair) 



WHAT'S WRONG. 25 

Smith. (Picks up Perry's hat and hands it to 
him) Here's your hat. I don't want to hurry 
you off, but — (Perry accepts hat and Smith takes 
hold of his arm to escort him to door. But Perry 
does not moz'e) 

Perry. {Smiling hut serious) You probably 
don't reaUze it, George, but in spite of the fact that 
you and I grew up together in the same httle town 
and went to school together in the same little red 
school house, you haven't been out to see us for al- 
most a year. And here we live only fifty-nine min- 
ules from the Grand Central Station! (Lays hat 
on desk) 

Smith. {Sincerely, having glanced at his zvatch) 
I know it, Perry, and Pm ashamed of myself, but 
fifty-nine minutes is an hour. 

Perry. What are you trying to do, anyway, 
(leorge — make a million dollars a minute? 

Smith. No, but if a man's going to make good, 
lie's got to be on the job all the time. 

Perry. You aren't on the job all the time, old 
man. The job is on you ! 

Smith. Now look here 

Perry. Pm doing a big business myself, George, 
'jlie demiand for Dodge's hulled corn as a breakfast 
cereal is becoming enormous, and I am supplying 
the demand. But I haven't become a slave to my 
business. (Smith takes Perry's hat from the desk 
and offers it to him^ but Perry ignores it) When 
1 am not selling hulled-corn my mind is not on 
hulled-corn but on my home — and I still have plenty 
of time for my friends. (Smith puts hat on 
Perry's head, but Perry pays no attention to it; 
simply smiles) 

Smith. (Impatiently, but not angrily, yet 
emphatically, pointing to map on left wall) See that 
map ? 

Perry. What about it? 



26 WHAT'S WRONG. 

(Smith crosses quickly to the map.) 

Smith. {Indicating zvith index finger on map as 
he talks) I'm pushing timber land in Canada: 
wheat land in North Dakota ; fruit land in Colorado ; 
ranch land in Texas ; cotton fields in Carolina ; 
tobacco, sugar, coffee, rice, rubber, indigo planta- 
tions in Mexico, Central and South America! (He 
suddenly remembers something important) Oh, 
great Scott! (Seizes telephone. In telephone 
hotly) Haven't you got Plaza 8763 yet? — Plaza 
8-7-6-3!! And hurry! (To Perry) A friend 
of mine's going to be married this afternoon. 
Asked me to be one of his ushers. 

Perry. You are going to, aren't you? 

Smith. No! I couldn't spare time to usher if 
it was my own wedding. (Angrily, in 'phone) 
All right! (To Perry, as he jams receiver in 
hook) Every time I try to get that confounded 
bridegroom, he's busy! (In telephone) Central! 
Send me a messenger boy right away. (As he 
hangs 'phone on desk, enter Jennie rear door, 
carrying open MSS.) 

Jennie. (Politely as she enters) Excuse me for 
interrupting "you, Mr. Smith, but 

Smith. (Politely, but rapidly) Certainly, cer- 
tainly! (Going tozvard her) Some mistake? 

Perry. (Delightfidly surprised, to Jennie, as she 
goes towards Smith) Why, hello, Jennie! 

(Jennie, surprised, stops and looks at Perry. 
Smith, also surprised, stops and looks at him 
too.) 

Jennie. [Recognizing Perry — pleased) Hello. 
Perry. (Curious) Since when did you become 
a stenographer? 

Jennie. To-day. {Starts towards Smith) 
Smith. (Raising his hand to stop her) Wait a 



WHAT'S WRONG. . 27 

minute. (Jennie stops) You said you zvere a 
stenographer. 

[knnie. {Drolly serious) I am — but I wasn't a 
real one until I began to work for you. 

Smith. What? 

Jennie. I could take dictation and typewrite, 
but a stenographer isn't really a stenographer until 
she works for a business man. (Tactfully, as she 
goes to him) Now here is what I wanted to ask 
you about. (Placing her finger on page of MSS. 
She is now beside Smith and holds MSS. so he 
can read zvhat she indicated zvith finger) It says: 
" The party of the second part assigns all rights, 
etc., etc." (Glancing at Smith) Shouldn't it be: 
" The party of the first part? " 

(Smith, much interested, takes the MSS., turns to 
the preceding page, reads the last few lines 
thereon quickly, but car ef idly, then:) 

Smith. Of course it should! (Please, as he 
hands her the MSS.) I'm mighty glad you called 
my attention to that. That pleases me. It shows 
you're looking out for my interests. Just change 
it. will you. 

Jennie. Certainly. 

Smith. Thanks. 

Jennie. Welcome. [To Perry) How is Mrs. 
Dodge ? 

Perry. Nicely, thank you. (Puzzled) But 
what I can't understand is why you are working 
in this office. 

(Smith, who has just glanced at his watch, mis- 
interprets Perry's remark as an insinuation 
against him.) 

Smith. (Indignantly) Why shouldn't she work 
in this office? 



28 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Jennie. {Surprised and somezvhat anxiously^ to 
Perry) He's a gentleman, isn't he? 

Perry. Of course ! Of course he is ! But 1 
thought you were doing settlement work. 

Smith. {Annoyed at Perry's stupidity) She is! 

Jennie. That is why I came here. 

(Perry looks at Smith as if trying to figure out 
what's wrong with him.) 

Perry. {As if deeply interested, to Jennie. As 
he speaks. Smith shoves hat into his hand, but 
Perry ignores it) Just what kind of settlement 
work are you doing? 

Jennie. Helping poor little boys. 

Perry. {Significantly, hut d roily) You certainly 
have come to the right place. {Faces Smith and 
smiling patronizingly at him, takes the hat) 

Jennie. {Realizing the way Perry has interpreted 
her answer) Oh, I didn't mean it that way! I 
came here to solicit money for- 

Smith. Don't pay any attention to him. 

Jennie. {To Smith) Yes but you will explain 
how I^ 

Smith. Pm too busy to explain anything — and 
so are you. 

Jennie. But 

Smith. {Politely, indicating rear door) \{ you 
please. 

Jennie. {Apologetic) I beg your pardon. 
{Starts towards rear door) 

Smith. {Politely, accompanying Jier) That's all 
right ! That's all right ! No ofifence ! I simply 
want to get that thing copied as soon as possible. 
You understand? 

Jennie. That is why I apologized. 

Smith. Never mind apologizing. It's his fault, 
not yours. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 29 

Jennie. (Nozv at rear door) Thank you. 

Smith. Welcome. (Exit Jennie rear door. 
Smith closes the door for her, then, to Perry, 
pointing at r. d.) Do you see that door? 

Perry. {After glancing at r. d.) Nice door, isn't 
it? {Lays hat on desk again) 

Smith. Now, look here. Perry! 

Perry. T didn't know you knew her. {Indicat- 
ing rear door) 

Smith. I don't ! 

Perry. Do you mean to say that you don't know 
your own stenographer? 

Smith. She sent it in on a card, but Pve lost 
tlie card. {Hunting about desk for card) Who is 
she? 

PFRR^■. {Significantly, as if speaking of a cele- 
brated person) Why, that's Jennie Brown! 

Smith. {Glancinq at him blankly. He doesn't 
kiwiv of Jennie Brown and his expression and 
I'oice shoiv it) Is it? 

Perry. Yes. You know who she is ! 

Smith. {Reminiscently) Brown — Brown. 

There's something familiar about the name, but — 
(Abruptly. He wants to saz'c time) Who is she? 
T haven't time to look her up in " AMio's Who " or 
Bradstreet's ! 

Perry. {Surprised at his ignorance) Why, she's 
the daughter of old man Brown ! 

Smith. Call names, Perrv ! For Heaven's sake, 
call names ! How can I tell one Brown from an- 
other if you don't name 'em?^ Was her father 
John Brown or Jay A. Brown or 

Perry. Yes- — Jay A. ! 

Smith. {Surprised) The big real estate man 
who died a few years ago? 

Pi.rr\'. Yes. He laid out our suburb and lived 
there quite a while. We were neighbours. That's 
how T ha])pen to know Jennie. 



30 WHAT'S WRONG. 

(Smith, %vho has been listening intently to Perry, 
glances at rear door, then:) 

Smith. {Gravely, but determinedly, to Perry) 
I'm going to keep her for my stenographer if it 
costs me a hundred dollars a week. 

Perry. {Patting him on shoulder) She's worth 
it. 

Smith. Well, good-bye, Perry — I 

Perry. (Slowly and trying to smile, but it is a 
pathetic smile. As he runs his hand slowly along 
the rim of his hat) Of course there's a little senti- 
ment about the dinner to-night, George. 

Smith. {Sincerely, though rapidly) I know it, 
Perry, but Pm absolutely too busy to monkey with 
sentiment. 

Perry. {Generously) All right, George. Good- 
bye. {Extends hand and Smith sei::es it) 

Smith. {As he shakes Perry's hand and leads 
him towards r. d. to save time) Good-bye, Perry, 
ril see you when I get back from Argentine. 

{Enter Eddie r. d.. carrying a large decorated paste- 
board box.) 

Eddie. Here are the flowers you sent for, Mr. 
Smith. 

Smith. Thanks. {As he takes box from 
Eddie) Tell Miss Brown to come here. {Eddie 
looks at him stupidly) The new stenographer! 
Hurry ! 

{Exit Eddie briskly rear door as Smith crosses to 
desk. Perry remains where he is and zvatches 
Smith curiously during the following. Enter 
Jennie rear door. She looks perplexed, as if 
wondering zvhy Smith has sent for her.) 

Smith. {Very politely — aiid hastening tozvard 
her ) Plere are vour flowers. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 31 

Jennie. (Modestly as she accepts box) Thank 
you, Mr. Smith ! You are very generous. 

Smith. Don't mention it! There'll be more 
next time. (Glances at watch) 

Jennie. (She thinks he 7cants to hurry her up) 
I'm going. 



Smith. (Apologetic as Jennie crits) That's 
all right! That's all-right! Just so you get that 
thing copied as quick as you can. (Exit Jennie 
rear door. Smith closes door for her, hastens dozvn 
to desk, then glances at Perry, ivho hasnt taken 
his eyes off him since Eddie entered with the fiozvers. 
Perry smiles zvisely at Smith. Smith tries to 
gaze calmly at Perry. Pause. Finally, zvhen 
Smith can stand it no longer: Explosively and 
somezvhat angrily) \\''ell, what're you grinning at? 

Perry. I thought you didn't have time for senti- 
ment. 

Smith. That wasn't sentiment — it was diplo- 
macy. I nearly fired her before you came in, and 
had to do something to square myself. (He makes 
a zvry face as if in pain) Ouch ! (Grabs jazv zvith 
hand) 

Perry. (As Smith presses right hand against 
right cheek) What's the matter? 

Smith. Toothache. Have had it for a month! 

P|':rry. Why don't you get it filled? 

Smith. Takes too long! (Telephone rings. To 
Pi:rky, hand on cheek) Answer that, will you? 
(Pi-:rrv lays hat on desk. As Perry is about to 
pick up 'phone) Hurry! 

( Perry smiles at him. then picks up 'phone. ) 

Perry. (Calmly, in 'phone) Yes? 
Smith. (Impatiently) \Vho is it? Tell me. 
Who is it? 

Perry. Doctor Adams. 

Smith. Let me talk to him. (Forgetting tooth- 



32 WHAT'S WRONG. 

ache, he hastens to Perry who gives him the 
'phone. In 'phone, rapidly) Hello. This is Smith. 
Say, Doc, I think I'll have to pass up that appoint- 
ment altogether. I simply can't get there to-day — • 
and — {Abruptly) I'll see you later. G'bye. {Jams 
receiver in hook and puts telephone doicn) 

Perry. Is he a dentist? 

Smith. No — stomach specialist. Haven't been 
able to sleep lately and thought maybe something 
might be wrong with my stomach. {Calls) Eddie I 

{Enter Eddie r. d. ) 

Eddie. {Entering) Yes, sir. 

Smith. Fetch me a cup of coffee and a piece o£ 
apple pie. Hold on a minute — make that a lemon 
merangue. 

Eddie. Yes, sir. 

{Exit Eddie rapidly.) 

Smith. Eddie!! {KBr>iE re-enters) Fetch both 
the apple pie and the lemon merangue. I'm starv- 



ing' 



Eddie. Yes, sir. {Hurries off) 

Smith. {To Perry) I haven't had a square 
meal in a week. 

Perry. {Placing hand on Smith's shoidder) 
George, what you need is a wife 

Smith. What I need is a Bromo Seltzer. 
{Places right hand to forehead and goes quickly to 
other end of desk) 

Perry. You need a wife, like my Marjorie — a 
nice little woman who knows how to make home the 
dearest, sweetest, most restful spot in all the world! 
George; {Laying both hands on Smith's shoidders) 
why don't you get yourself a wife like Marjorie? 
( Slight pause. They are looking steadily into each 
other's eyes. Taking hold of Perry's wrists gently 



WHAT'S WRONG. 33 

but firmly. Smith removes the hands from his 
shoulders and places them emphatically at Perry's 
sides) 

Smith. (Calmly, but with potential emphasis) 
Perr}' — Fve told you politely that Pm busy. Pve 
told you politely that I couldn't go home with you. 
Now I ask you politely to get the hell out of here! 

Perry. (In a tone of voice bespeaking genuine 
sincerity) I want to help you, George. 

Smith. (Qiiickh and emphatically) I hire my 
lielp ! 

Perry. But 

Smith. The elevators in this building go down 
every minute! (Perry smiles broadly — zvhereupon 
Smith rushes to door and jerks it open. Enter 
Jennie rear door, MSS. in hand. To Jennie, some- 
what brusque) Is it all copied? 

Jennie. (Pleasantly and calmly, as she comes 
down briskly) Yes, sir. 

Smith. (Grabs handful of MSS. from desk) 
Here's some more! (Shoves them at her. Jennie 
gives her MSS. to Smith and accepts Smith's from 
him. Incisively) Hurry! (Je'N'Nie does not move. 
Slight pause, then: Very politely) If you please. 
(Jennie nods slightly and starts up) 

Perry. (To Jennie as she starts towards rear 
door — confidentially, after glancing at Smith who 
is busy reading MSS. at lower left) Have you 
any chloroform? 

Jennie. (Curiously — puzzled) Chloroform? 
( Perry nods. — She looks at him quizzically, suspects 
his meaning, glances at Smith zvho is now thrum- 
ming desk nervously with fingers, like a pianist play- 
ing piano. Then, to Perry) Paderewski? 

(Perry nods. Jennie shakes her head — she hasn't 
any chloroform — Then exits rear r. Perry 
goes toward Smith.) 



34 WHAT'S WRONG. 



Perry. George- 
Smith. Go. 



Perry. But 

( Smittt flings MSS. on desk and seizing Perry's 
hat, hurls it at door.) 

Smith. Get out! 

Perry. {Deeply hurt by Smith's action) I beg 
your pardon. (He goes slowly tozvards d. r. 
Smith, hands clenched, and brozvs knit, stares at 
him. Arrived at d. r., Perry picks up hat, glances 
at it, then begins to wipe off the dust with his hand- 
kerchief. When the hat is dusted: Kindly, but not 
smiling) Our latch string is always out. (Putting 
on his hat) And Marjorie and I are always in to 
you, George. (Opens door to go) 

Smith. Wait a minute. (As he goes tozvards 
Perry, characteristically rapid but deeply apol- 
ogetic) I didn't mean to make such a damn fool of 
myself. Really T didn't. But I've got so much to 
do that — (Extending hand) Vm sorry, Perry. 
Awfully sorry. 

Perry. (Consolingly, as he shakes Smith's hand) 
That's all right, George — I understand — I under- 
stand. 

(Enter Eddie r. d., with a tray containing a mug of 
coffee, a piece of pie and a lemon merangiie. 
He leaves door open.) 

Smith. (To Eddie) Put it on the desk. Quick! 

Eddie. (Hurrying awkzvardly toward desk. He 
is afraid of spilling the coffee) Yes, sir. (As 
Eddie passes Smith, Smith grabs mug of coffee 
from tray and gidps down the coffee) 

Smith. (Rapidly to Perry, his mouth full of 
lemon mcrangue) Good-bye! (As he shoves 
Perry through the open door) Remember me to 



WHAT'S WRONG. 35 

Marjorie. Good-bye! {Exit Perry backzvards, 
SivTiTH shoving him gently zvith hands against his 
breast. Slamming door shut, Smith hastens to- 
wards desk, empty eoffee mug in hand. Presses his 
hand against his forehead) Fetch me a Bromo 
Seltzer ! 

Eddie. (Accepting mug zvhich Smith shoves at 
him) Yes, sir. (Starts tozvards door) 

Smith. Make it two! Hurry! 



( Eddie runs to door and exits. Smith grabs the 
piece of merangue from tray and begins to eat 
it rapidly.) 

Eddie. (Re-entering) Excuse me, Mr. Smith, 
(Hd you send for a messenger boy ? 

Smith. Hours ago! Send him in. (Eddie 
exits rapidly. Smith bolts another mouthful of 
merangue— cramming it into his mouth and, sitting, 
grabs pen and begins to zvrite hurriedly. Enter 
Messenger Boy, leisurely. Seizing blotter — and 
zvith mouth filled zvith merangue) ELurry! (As 
Smith blots note by pounding on blotter, the Boy 
hastens to him. Rapidly, as he snatches envelope 
from desk drazver and shoves note into it and sticks 
flap of envelope zvith a piece of merangue) 467 
Riverside Drive. Bridegroom! Run! (He gives 
the boy the envelope and exit Messenger Boy 
briskly. Glancing at zvatch) Another fourteen 
minutes all shot to thunder ! (Jamming zvatch into 
z'cst pocket, he sits dozvn, shoves the tray of food 
aside, grabs an unread MSS. from pile, jerks it open 
and begins to read, tracing finger racing across page 
at terrific rate. The door r. is opened cautiously, as 
if someone zvas peeking in to make sure that Smith 
zvas alone. Then it opens zvidely and Marjorie 
Dodge enters. She is a good-looking, healthy, like- 
able young zvoman — medium height and quite 



36 WHAT'S WRONG. 

plump. She zvears a street suit zvhich, although 
made of -good material, is of the 1909 model — 
pleated skirt quite full at the bottom, and a rather 
long but plain jacket to match. Her hat is quite 
country and matches her suit. Her appearance is 
intended to give the impression that she zvas raised 
in a small tozvn and although now living in a suburb 
of Nezv York, still clings to the small tozvn con- 
servatism as regards clothes. In short, she is some- 
zvhat rustic, but not to the extent of being ludicrous. 
In her right hand she carries a large, black, mesh- 
cloth market-bag zvhich is bulging vuith small paper- 
covered packages — delicacies — for the anniversary 
feast. In her left hand, she carries a small leather 
shopping bag and a rather large, square, box-shaped 
bundle. The bundle is tied zvith heavy tzvine and 
has a zvooden carrying handle. Marjorie's chief 
characteristics arc : zvholesome simplicity, big- 
hearted hospitableness, a cheery face, and a broad, 
good-natured smile and a jovial laugh. Upon enter- 
ing, Marjorie places her mesh-bag on floor and 
closes door quietly. As Smith tosses document 
aside and reaches for another, he sees Marjorie. 
Her hack is to him and she is closing the door. 
Smith does not recognize her) Never mind the 
door. What do you want — city farms or property? 

Marjorie. {Turning — good naturedly emphatic) 
J want you! 

Smith. {Surprised) Why, hello Marjorie! 
{Rising and shaking her hand) How are you? 
Glad to see you ! But if you don't wait too long, 
you can overtake your husband. Perry hasn't been 
gone more than a minute. {Snatches up market-bag 
and is about to open door for her) 

Marjorie. I didn't come here to overtake my 
husband. 

Smith. What did you come for? 

Marjorie. To take you home with me. 

Smith. {Putting dozvn bags) Say, wdiat is this — 



WHAT'S WRONG. 37 

a conspiracy to keep me from going to South 
America? (Marjorie laughs heartily. Smith 
ivatches her a moment. Then, pepperlshly hut try- 
ing not to he impolite) Pardon my interruption, 
Marjorie, but 

Marjorte. (Broadly) George, you make me 
laugh I 

Smith. All right, but please step outside to do 
it — this is my busy day. (Glances at watch — then 
at rear door) 

Marjorie. Something told me you'd say " No " 
to Perry, so I came in to ask you myself. 

Smith. That was sweet of you but 

Marjorie. (Smiling confidantly) I knew you 
wouldn't have the heart to refuse me. 

Smith. I haven't but I've got to do it just the 
same. You see — {Jerks out zvatch, looks ^ at it. 
Then glances anxiously at rear door and picks up 
Marjorie's hags) 

Marjorie. I see I (Sm ith looks at her curiously 
and she smiles broadly) Bring her along. 

Smith. Who? 

Marjorie. (Broadly ironical — joshing him) 
George, you look as innocent as a stuffed rabbit, but 
you can't fool me. (Chucks him under the chin and 
giggles) 

Smith. (^Dropping bags) Be rational, Marjorie! 
You know i haven't time to care for women. 

Marjorie. Busier men than you have been shot 
by Cupid. And whenever a man looks at his watch 
the wav you do, there's only one answer — petticoats! 

Smith. I tell you 

Marjorie. Stop your crawfishing ! 

Smith. I'm not crawfishing. I 

Marjorie. You come out to our house this even- 
ing and bring that young lady with you. (Pats her 
on back. Then snatches up bags) Come on! 

{Just as Marjorie gets to the door— Jennie enters. 



38 WHAT'S WRONG. 

MSS. in hand — the two Women recognhr 
each other.) 

Makjorik. {Dumbfounded, but delighted) Why, 
Jennie Brown! {Drops everything, rushes to her 
and hugs her) 

Smith. {To himself) Oh, Lord! 

Marjorie. {Enthusiastically to Jennie) Wliat 
on earth are you doing here? 

Jennie. Helping. 

Smith. But 

Marjorie. li you don't ]'ll think it's because you 
don't want to come. 

Smith. {Rapid but sincere) Don't be fooHsh, 
Marjorie. I hke you. I like Perry. I like your 
little home. I like your food. I like the way you 
cook it. I like everything. But I simply can't come. 
{Picking up bags) Now come on, I'll go as far as 
the elevator with you. {Hastens to door and opens 
it) 

Marjorie. {Long-faced) Aw, why can't you 
come out, George? I — T — { Wipes her eyes zvith 
handkerchief) 

Smith. {Going tozvard her — sympathetically) 
Don't cry, Marjorie. I don't want to hurt your 
feelings but 

Marjorie. To-night is our wedding anniversary. 

Smith. 1 know it but you'll have another one 
next year, and maybe I can get out then. 

Marjorie. \Miy, how perfectly lovely! I've 
known George ever since — {She sits — to Smith's 
despair) sit down, Jennie — ever since we were 
married. Maybe he's told you about me already. 
I'll bet he has1 

Jennie. Don't bet very much. 

( Smith glares at them both and looks at his watch.) 
Marjorie. {Struck by an idea) Say, why don't 



M^HAT'S WRONG. 39 

you bring him out to dinner to-night, I'm sure he'd 
come if you asked him. Ask him — go ahead — ask 
him. You'll come with her, won't you, George? 
(Has another idea — looks from George to Jennie) 
Perhaps you were going to have din — (Pauses in the 
middle of the zvord — trying to ask the question 
innocently) Where are you dining to-night, Jennie? 

Jennie. So many unexpected things have hap- 
])ened to me since breakfast that I won't be sur- 
prised if T have dinner in a hospital — or the police 
station. 

Smith. (Rapidly and strictly business, but polite 
— approaching Marjorie) Pardon me, Marjorie. 
I know she's an old friend of the family and all that, 
but she's my stenographer now and business is busi- 
ness. (Takes hold of her arm and starts toward 
R. D. with her. Calls loudly) Eddie! (To 
Marjorie) It's a case of being downright rude — 
or missing my boat to-morrow. (Rushes to bundles 
and begins to pick them up) 

( Enter Eddie r. d. briskly.) 

Eddie. Yes, sir. 

Smith. {Shoving bundles into his arms) Take 
tluse to the elevator! Quick! (Exit Eddie r. d.. 
as Smith hastens to Marjorie) Come on, 
Marjorie ! 

Marjorie. (Good-naturedly remonstrative) 
Now, George 

Smith. (Taking her by arm) You're my friend, 
but business is business. Come on ! 

Marjorie. (Going to the door with Smith — look- 
ing back — talking) We don't mind George! He's 
funny but we know he means well. But Em just 
wild to know how you ever came to work here 
and — (They have reached r. d. and Marjorie balks, 
stops and refuses to exit — still talking^ Have you 
known George very long? 



40 WHAT'S WRONG, 

Smith. {Emphatically) Come on! 

Marjorie. It's the strangest thing that you two 
young people 

Smith. Stop your crawfishing 1 {Puts his hands 
gently hut firmly against her back and pushes her 
off — he follows her and re-enters almost im- 
mediately. He slams door shut, jerks out watch 
savagely. Sotto voce, hut angry and disgusted as he 
gazes at watch) Hell! When a man's in a hurry, 
it's just one damned friend after another! {Jams 
watch in pocket — then seeing Jennie) Oh, — excuse 
me ! — I like my friends but 

Jennie. {Drolly) I understand. You like them 
hut you have no time for them. 

Smith. {Locks the door) Precisely! You don't 
mind my locking this door, do you? 

Jennie. Why should I — if you leave the key in it. 

Smith. {Taking MSS. from Jennie who is 
near desk) All done? {Before she can anszver) 
Fine ! Now for dictation. {Slaps MSS. on desk, 
seizes speaking tube, presses it to his ear and pushes 
button. Then to Jennie) Sit down, {Indicat- 
ing chair at r. of desk, then in the tube) Eddie, 
get me a cigar and — {Eyes Jennie) a cocktail — 
quick! {Drops tube. To Jennie) I don't drink, 
— but I need something to brace me. You under- 
stand. {As though to resume business) Now 
then! I want to answer a letter to — {Begins to 
hunt for a letter) 

(Jennie nozv seated and ready for dictation, 
ivatches Smith as he rummages through con- 
tents of the drawer. Then:) 

Jennie. {Tactfully and ivith a twinkle as if it 
had been puzzling her) Pardon my inquisitive- 
ness, Mr. Smith, but why did Mr. Dodge wish to 
chloroform you? 

Smith. He wanted me to eat one of those slow 
family meals. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 41 

Jennie. Don't you think it would do you good? 

Smith. (Busy zvith letters, sorting them for the 
cue he wants) Maybe. No time. 

Jennie. What do you think time was made for? 

Smith. To make money ! 

Jennie. (After a contemplative pause, during 
■which Smith grows impatient with letters) You 
probably think me very inquisitve, but 

Smith. (Tossing letters into desk) Not at all! 
Not at all ! (He snatches another bundle of letters 
and searches hurriedly for the one he wants) 

Jennie. Please don't think I am asking these 
([uestions out of idle curiosity. 

Smith. (Quickly and with a trace of impatience 
keeping right on sorting letters) That's all right! 
Ask them ! 

Jenny. (Frankly) How much money are you 
trying to make? 

Smith. Lots of it! 

Jennie. When you have made lots of it, what 
will you do? 

Smith. (Still busy with letters, quickly) Marry 
a wife and keep her like she ought to be kept, I 
suppose. 

Jennie. (Puzzled) Yon '' suppose? " Haven't 
you any definite plans? 

Smith. I'm too busy to plan. (Impatiently) 
That confounded letter! Where did I — (Looks 
again ) 

Jennie. Did you place it on file? 

Smith. No: didn't have time. (Tosses letters 
into drawer, slams drawer shut — jerks open an- 
other drawer— snatches out letters) 

Jennie. Do my questions bother you? 

Smith. (Searching for the lost letters) Not at 
all ! Not at all ! 

Jennie. When you are ready to marry, how 
old will you be? 

Smith. The Tord only knows! 



42 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Jennie. Approximately how old? 

wSmith. {Somewhat explosively) Forty! What 
did I do with that — {He sorts letters -with increased 
rapidity ) 

Jennie. {After a slight pause) Aren't you 
afraid that by the time you are forty all the nice 
women will be gone? 

Smith. {Confidently) Not a bit! 

Jennie. You know, they are marrying awfully 
fast. 

Smith. Yes, but there are just as fine fish in the 
sea as ever were caught. 

Jennie. But to catch those fine fish, you must 
have fresh bait. 

Smith. Do you mean to insinuate that my bait 
is stale? 

Jennie. If it isn't, it soon will be. 

Smith. What do you mean? 

Jennie. You will pardon my frankness, Mr. 
Sm'ith, but have you looked at yourself lately? 

Smith. Haven't had time. 

(Jennie takes a little mirror out of the small hag 
at her waist.) 

Jennie. {Offering Smith the mirror) Reflect a 
moment? (Smith ga::es at self in mirror) Mr. 
Smith, I haven't known you very long, but I've 
known you long enough to see that if you keep on 
working at this hurry-hurry, break-neck speed, by 
the time you are forty, you will be so old and 
wrinkled and hump-backed that no self-respecting 
fish will even nibble. 

Smith. Think so? 

Jennie. Do you doubt your own reflection? 
Look at yourself again. 

Smith. {Siizing up his face, satisfied) I guess 
I can land at least one pretty good fish. 

Jennie. Certainly — of a kind. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 43 

Smith. (Sharply) What's that? 
[ennie. There are always those that rise to 
golden bait. 

Smith. What? 

Jennie. Money will always buy one kind of 
wife, but I didn't think that was the kind you 
wanted. 

Smith. It isn't. I want a wife who will love 
nie for what I am, not for what I have. 

Jennie. I am ready for that dictation now. 
Smith. (Begins to pace nervously r., dictating 
rapidly) Mr. F. H. Henderson, Winnipeg, Canada. 
Yours of recent date received and would have 
answered immediately hut— (After a pause — to 
Jennie) Is there any way in which a man can 
preserve his — his bait? 

Jennie. (Drolly) It has been done. 
Smith. How? 

Jennie. Plenty of sleep, plenty of exercise and 
lots of w^holesome food. (Loud knozving at R. d.) 
SxMith. (Emphatically) Busy! 
Eddie. (Loudly outside R. d.) Cocktail! 
Smith. (As he dashes to R. d.) Coming! 
( Unlocks door. Enter Eddie carrying tray con- 
taining cocktail and big black cigar wrapped up in 
tinfoil. Smith grabs cocktail in one hand and 
cigar in other. Exit Eddie briskly, with tray. 
Coming to desk) Anything else? (Drops cocktail 
(/lass to floor, smashing it) Oh, damn! 

Jennie. Putting it as man to man, Mr. Smith, 
and in the vernacular of a gentleman— everything 
you do, you do too damn fast. 

Smith. (Lighting cigar) Thanks. 

Jennie. Welcome. Now as to that dictation — 

Smith. Oh. yes, where w^as I? 

Jennie. Mr. F. H. Henderson, Winnipeg ■ 

Smith. Oh, yes — would have answered sooner 
had I not been working day and night, closing up 
the biggest land deal ever— (PaM.y^) Say: why 



44 WHAT'S WRONG. 

did you ask me how old I'd be before I got ready 
to go fishing? 

Jennie. (Seriously, after a slight pause) Do 
you know what is going to happen if you keep on 
hurrying? 

Smith. Sure! I'll be rich and retire — then I 
can rest. 

Jennie. (Droll but significant) A long rest. 

Smith. (Suddenly remembering it, and emphat- 
ically) That reminds me — Oh, that's awful — a 
dear friend of mine had a funeral to-day and I 
was to have been one of his pallbearers. (Dis- 
gusted zvith himself as he glances at watch) Huh! 
Too late now. I've been so rushed that I — 
(About to dictate — then pausing suddenly as though 
he'd forgotten zvhat he'd intended to do. Pressing 
his hand to his forehead. After a slight pause) 
That's queer. What— what'd I call vou in here 
for? 

Jennie. To dictate some letters. 

Smith. Oh, yes — Who was that fellow I was 
dictating to? 

Jennie. (Looking at him as though remarking 
his for get fulness) Mr. Henderson — of Winnipeg — ■ 

Smith. Yes — Er — I'm a bit heady — guess I'm 
Iningry. (Reaches for the plate containing the pie. 
Enter Eddie. Irritably) Now what is it? 

Eddie. Here's a special delivery letter, sir. 
(Hands him the letter and starts tozvard r. d.) 

Smith. Eddie! 

Eddie. (Stopping, near door) Yes, sir. 

Smith. (Pressing hand against forehead) Fetch 
me a pair of Bromos — for my head. 

Eddie. Yes, sir. 

Smith. (From force of habit as Eddie exits) 
Hurry! (Exit Eddie; Smith rips letter open. To 
Jennie, as he jerks contents from envelope) Just 
a moment. 

Jennie. Certainly. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 45 

{As he reads letter, Jennie ga^es at him zvith an 
expression of mingled curiosity and sympathy. 
She is keenly interested in him, but it is the 
interest of an observer, not an admirer.) 

Smith. (As he reads letter) Confound it! 
{Deeply regretful as he reads second page of letter) 
Confound it!! (As he reads third page of letter: 
angrily) Con — Hang me, anyway! 

Jennie. Why? 

Smith. Day before yesterday was my mother's 
birthday. 

Jennie. {Anxiously) And you forgot all about 
it ? 

Smith. Yes. 

Jennie. How old is she? 

Smith. Sixty. 

Jennie. Tc! Tc! To! Didn't vou ever think 



of her? 



Smith. Yes, but — Take this wire. 
Jennie. Yes, sir. 

(Smith runs his fingers through his hair as if try- 
ing to collect his thoughts. His expression is 
that of a self -condemning man.) 

.Smith, l^ear Mother : Yours received. Regret 
e\ eii more than you failed to remember your birth- 
day. First time has ever occurred ; promise you 
will be the last. No, not ill. Busy, that's all — very, 
\'ery busy. (He pauses) 

Jennie. (As if repeating ivhat had been dictated 
to her and as though writing it) Too busy to re- 
member even his dear old mother. (Smith 
li'inces) Is that all? 

Smith. Yes. (Jennie rises) Send only that 
last sentence — yours, George. 

Jennie. x\ren't you going to send her any love? 

(Smith doesn't hear her — is thinking.) 



46 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. " Too busy to remember even his dear 
old mother." (He takes piece of pie from table 
mechanically) 

Jennie. (Kindly) -What is your mother's 
address ? 

Smith. Ohio. (Bites end off pie) 

Jennie. (As she writes on pad) What town? 

Smith. Why — why- — it seems to have slipped 
my mind. 

Jennie. Surely you know where your mother 
Hves? 

Smith. (Bewildered) That's strange — (He 
places piece of pie on edge of desk, then takes 
several letters from inside of coat pocket) I gen- 
erally have one of her — one of her — one of her 
letters with me. (He fumbles the letters, aim- 
lessly) 

Jennie. (Kindly) Can't you even remember the 
name of the town? 

Smith. (Getting more confused) I — I seem to 
have forgotten it. 

Jennie. A man ought to know the name of his 
home town. 

Smith. (To Jennie) What were we talking 
about ? 

Jennie. Your mother's address. 

Smith. (Almost stupidly) What about it? 
(Picks up piece of pie, automatically) 

Jennie. Why 

( Smith begins to glance around the room as if it 
were a strange place. Jennie stops short and 
watches him anxiously.) 

Smith. Where — where am I? 

Jennie. Here — in your office. 

Smith. [Listlessly) Oh, yes, — yes. (Taking 
deep breath) I — I feel all in. (Takes a bite of 
pie) 



WHAT'S WRONC^.. 47 

Jennik. (Sympathetically) Does your head 
ache ? 

Smith. Not exactly. (He takes another bite of 
pie) 

{Enter Eddie with a glass of Bromo Seltzer in 
each hand. Jennie beckons him to stay 
■ zvhere he is.) 

Eddie. (In an excited whisper) What's the 
matter? 

Jennie. Nothing- — but don't tell anyone. (In- 
dicating the glasses) Throw that away and get 
Mr. Smith something nourishing. 

Eddie. But he said- 

Jennie. (Firmly) I say get him some hte( tea. 

Eddie. But he 

Jennie. (Quietly but emphatically) Mind! 

Eddie. (Meekly) Yes. ma'am, (Exits — closing 
door) 

(Jennie takes piece of pie out of Smith's right 
hand, and tosses it into waste basket.) 

Smith. (Weakly remonstrative) You've thrown 
away my breakfast! 

Jennie. (Gently) Eddie is bringing you some 
be:f tea. And when he returns I shall have him 
get you some toast and eggs and milk, and a nice 
piece of beefsteak. 

Smith. (Complainingly) A horse couldn't eat 
that ! 1 can't spare the time to eat a regular meal ! 

Jennie. (Sympathetically, but with a frankness 
which borders on the emphatic) Mr. Smith, you 
are on the verge of a nervous collapse. 

Smith. I'm too busy to collapse. (Placing hand 
to forehead, he rises) Now as to that dictation — • 
(Dictating slozvly and carefidly) Mr. E. H. 
Wmnipeg, Henderson, Canada. (Starts l., but 
Jennie stops him gently) 

1 E N N I E. ( Kindly ) Sit down . 



48 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. (Trying to reason zvith her) Now 
listen — — 

Jennie. {Pleasantly hut firmly) You listen to 
me. iShe indicates chair. Smith sits in front of 
desk. Jennie then sits in pivot chair, above desk) 
Mr. Smith, since Fve been in your office to-day, a 
friend has died, a friend has married. ]/our mother 
has had a birthday, and you haA^e had two invita- 
tions to dinner — all ignored by you. You stay here 
hurrying and rushing and life passes you by. You 
will die without even having lived — and you are too 
good a man for that. You have been working too 
hard, Mr. Smith. You must take a rest. 

Smith. I haven't time to rest. I 

Jennie. I am not your family physician, but 
what you need is to spend several months quietly. 

Smith. But I tell you 

Jennie. The ideal place for you is a farm. 

Smith. But 

Jennie. {With quiet enthusiasm) I know- 
where there's a farm that will just suit you. 

Smith. {Petulantly) Now listen 

Jennie. {As before) It is in New Jersey. 

Smith. {Emphatically, and as if that were the 
last straw) No ! I wouldn't live on a farm in 
Jersey if 

Jenny. {Gently and tactfully) Just on the edge 
of Jersey. (Encouragingly and as if that would 
satisfy him completely) You can see New York. 

Smith. Can you? 

Jennie. (Drolly, but seriously) Yes — on a clear 
day. (Then, smiling, and intimately, almost as if 
she were telling a child a fairy story) It is a little 
farm with a little pasture, and a few little fields, 
and a nice big roomy barn. There is a little house, 
a cow or two, a few chickens and some bees. Now 
as I said before, Mr Smith, I am not your family 
physician, but it does seem to me that the wisest 
thing vou can do is to lease that farm, go out there. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 49 

put on a pair of overalls and forget everything 
except the cows and the bees and the chickens. 

Smith. Yes, but 

Jennie. It will be the making of you, Mr. Smith ! 
Early to bed, windows wide open, fresh air rushing 
in ! Early to rise, mist on the meadows, sun com- 
ing up, birds singing, roosters crowing, bees hum- 
ming! All day long, whenever you are thirsty^ 
sweet milk. When you are hungry — fresh eggs, 
fried chicken, milk gravy, vegetables right out of 
your own garden. (During the above. Smith, 
7vith his hands laying on the desk, has watched 
Jennie as if fascinated. Jennie is now leaning 
forward and her face is radiant with enthusiasm. 
Slight pause, then Jennie taps the back of Smith's 
hand lightly and smiles) Honestly, don't you think 
you should go to Jersey? Don't you? 

Smith. (Emphatically, but not petulantly. He 
is simply stating an incontrovertible fact) I can't 
— I've got to go to South America to-morrow — big 
land deal- — Argentine. I was going to give you 
final instructions before I left. 

Jennie. Have you bought your ticket? 

Smith. Yes, and I've cabled I'm coming. 

Jennie. (Gently, yet with an air of finality) 
But you're not. 

Smith. (Petulantly) I've got to! 

Jennie. (Seriously) Mr. Smith, if you don't 
take a rest right now, I know what it is going to 
cost you. 

Smith. (Apprehensively) What do you mean? 

Jennie. My father used to do the same thing 
you are doing — forgot and — the rest of it — and it 
killed him, 

Smith. (Surprised, but quietly) Really? 

Jennie. Yes — and we don't want that to hap- 
pen to you. Father hurried and worried, wouldn't 
take time to eat and grew so nervous that he 
couldn't sleep. 



50 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. (As if certain she could have done it if 
anyone could) Couldn't you put him to sleep? 

Jennie. No. Like you, he wouldn't listen to 
reason. 

Smith. Fm listening. I've never listened so 
much to anybody in my life. 

Jennie. (Eyes him) Thank you. Finally, my 
father's nerves gave away, he became paralyzed 
and — (Significantly) Isn't Spanish the national 
language of Argentine? 

Smith. (Pu::;zled h\ the abrupt transition) 
W^hy? 

Jennie. (Matter-of-fact, yet nith a significant 
little emphasis on "I") I speak Spanish. 

Smith. Say — you know, you're a wonderful girl. 
You can typewrite and do Settlement work and 
write shorthand and speak Spanish 

Jennie. That's how I learned to typewrite. T 
taught a little stenographer Spanish and she taught 
me stenography. 

Smith. What else do you know? 

Jennie. A great deal — about land. 

Smith. (Puzzled) How does that happen? 

Jennie. I was raised on it. Father never 
talked of anything else- — and in our home, father 
did all the talking. 

Smith. (Deeply interested in the girl — and as if 
to make her a business offer) Say — (Then pauses 
as if to collect his thoughts) 

Jennie. Were you going to Argentine to buy 
land or sell it? 

Smith. Buy. 

Jennie. Wheat land? 

Smith. How'd you guess it? 

Jennie. I was raised on land. W^hen does your 
boat sail? 

Smith. Noon- — to-morrow. 

Jennie. I can do it nicely and I'll cable you full 
details. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 51 

Smith. {Puzded) What do you mean? 

Jennie. I am going to South America and you 
are going to New Jersey. 

Smith. But 

Jennie. This afternoon, we will go over and 
look at the farm. 

Smith. Listen 

Jennie. On our way over and coming back, you 
can tell me what to do in Argentine. 

Smith. Yes, but 

Jennie. {Surprised and as if defending her honor. 
Rising) Don't you trust me? 

Smith. Trust you? (Rises, then with deep 
sincerity) Why, Miss Brown, if I had only one 
dollar in the world and the wolf was scratching at 
that door with both feet — I'd give you that dollar 
and let you go to Paris. That's how much I trust 
you! 

Tennie. Then surely .you will trust me with a 
little Mother-Earth in Argentine? 

Smith. (Putting hand to head again) Oh! 

Jennie. Sit down. (Enter Eddie r. d., with 
the beef tea on a tray, also a spoon, napkin and small 
salt and pepper shakers. As she takes the tray 
ivhich Bi:!DIe brings her) Get Mr. Smith's coat 
and hat. 

Eddie. Yes, ma'm. (Starts towards clothes 
cabinet) 

Jennie. (As she places tray on desk) And order 
a taxi. 

Eddie. Yes, ma'm. (During the following, 
Eddie brings Smith's coat and hat from clothes 
cabinet) 

Jennie. (To Smith, putting a napkin in front of 
him zvith all a woman's tenderness zvhen taking 
care of someone) I am sure you are going to like 
that little farm. {Handing him the beef tea) It's 
a perfect darling! (Smith takes beef tea and 
makes a wry face. Jennie sees that he doesn't like 



52 WHAT'S WRONG. 

the stuff, but pretends that she thinks he does like 
it^ smiling) It's very nice, isn't it? They make 
beef tea so appetizing now-a-days. (Smith glances 
at her as if about to say: " This is awful stuff.") 
A little more salt? {Smiling at him and shaking a 
little more salt into his beef tea as the curtain falls) 

CURTAIN. 



ACT II. 



The Scene: — The barn-yard of Smith's New 
Jersey farm, tzvo months later. About it A. 
M. on a hot summer day. 

Rear — The barn, afl old large one, extends 
from one side of the stage to the other. Center 
of barn, a large roller-door. It is open and 
through the doorway can be seen a long nar- 
rozv zvindow in rear of farm. It is directly 
opposite the front door. Through this zvin- 
dozu can be seen long rozvs of chicken yards 
zvith small zvhite coops which have green 
roofs. The yards are built, and arranged, like 
the runways in front of barn. The entire field, 
several acres in size, is used for chicken rais- 
ing. Beyond the field is an old stone fence, 
some trees, and then a typical Nezv Jersey 
landscape under a clear summer sky. Aboz>e 
the front door, a small double door opening 
into hay loft. It is closed but practical. To 
the R. and l. of barn door and built against 
the barn are mesh zvire pigeon coops. They 
are as high as the barn door. The coop on the 
L. is filled zvith live Blue Rock pigeons; the coop 
on the R., is filled with live white pigeons. Each 



WHAT'S WRONG. 53 

voop has a small door in tJic corner, nearest 
the barn door. 

Right— The farm-house. It is a low white 
structure with a window in the center — at 
about R. 2 E. This window, which is practical, 
is open, but its shutters, which are green, 
are closed. At the rear end of the house are 
three tvoodcn steps and a small landing, or 
porch, leading to the kitchen door, zvhich is 
practical. Between the end of the house and 
the barn is an open space through which can 
be seen a green clover field and in the back- 
ground a stone fence and dusty road. 
Left — Chicken runways, about five feet zvide 
and fenced with mesh wire five feet high. 
These runways e.vtend from within six feet 
of rear coops to lower front, l. i e. The lath 
doors of these runways are about eight feet 
from the side of the stage. There are four 
runzvays. Liz'e chickens, about tzvo-thirds 
grozvn, occupy these runzvays. 
Right Center, near the house and parallel 
zvith it, is a zvooden. bench tzvo feet high and ten 
feet long upon zvhich are zvhite bee-hives zvith 
supers. The hives face l. The upper end of 
this bench is on a line zvith upper end of run- 
zvays. 

llierc arc tzvo entrances to the barn yard r. 4 
and L. 4. There is a hand-sickle on the gate 
of the lozver runzvay. 
At Rise: — Pause during zvhich cockerels try to 
crozv and pullets try to " sing.'' 
Veteran cocks crozv lustily, off rear, egg- proud 
hens cackle loudly, and pigeons coo — Then the 
green shutters open and Phoebe Snow thrusts 
her head out of the zvindozv. 
Phoebe is a fat negress cook of about forty, 
and zvears a bandana-handkerchief on her 



54 WHAT'S WRONG. 

head. She looks all around to be sure Smith 
is nozvhere in sight. 

Phoebe. {Calling loudly and somcwhaf angrily 
■ — looking iozvard barn) Mistah Smith 1 {A calf 
hlats off L. (m the distance) as though it were 
being dragged tozvards the barn. Slight pause, then 
louder) Mistah Smith! (Slight pause, then — the 
calf's blat coming nearer) Mistah Smith, your 
bwekfast has done bin waitin' for t'ree hours I 
Are you comin' or ain't yuh? {Pause, during zvhich 
she listens alertly. Then, disgusted, her head dis- 
appears from zvindow and she slams the shutters 
shut, and appears at the door—^nozv very angry — 
calls off) Mistah Smith! {The calf blats uozv as 
though very near) 

Smith. {Voice off) Hello! 

Phoebe. Bwekfast! {The calf blats nearer) 

Smith. {Voice off) I haven't time to monkey 
with breakfast ! I'm busy ! 

Phoebe. {Muttering to herself) All right! 
Den stay out dere an' work yuh fool head off ! 
I should worry! {She re-enters house) 

Smith. (Calls) Woodrow ! (Louder) Wood- 
row ! 

(The hayloft door opens slozvly, revealing Wood- 
row^ a farmer boy of fourteen zvearing a black 
sateen shirt, skin-tight, faded blue overalls and 
a seedy strazv hat through the strazvless top of 
zvhich protrudes his shaggy head. He is on 
his knees.) 

Woodrow. (Loud, but zvith languid drazvl) 
Yep? 

Smith. (Still off) You attend to those incu- 
bators ! 

Woodrow. {Calling to Smith) I am attendin' 
to 'em. ' (To himself) I can't work faster'n I can. 



AVHAT'S WRONG. 55 

( Rntrr Smith hurriedly, l. 4 e. He is breathless 
and is mopping his perspiring face. He wears 
overalls, a soft shirt unbuttoned at the throat 
and sleeves rolled up to elbozvs, and a large 
strazv hat. He is much tanned but quite as thin 
and nervous as in the previous Act. He is 
going to call, but the telephone rings and he 
rushes to barn door. He snatches a telephone 
from shelf r.. side of door just inside the 
barn and jams receiver to his ear. The tele- 
phone has about thirty feet of insulated zvire 
cord zvhich permits him to walk all over the 
yard while telephoning. During the follozving 
scene he paces nerz'ously to v.,, and l., in front 
of barn. 

Smith. {In his characteristic high tension voice) 
TTello — Yes — Yes-^Tbis is the George H. Smith 
chicken farm. Broilers? — You bet your life! — 
Fifty cents a pound — -Forty-five — in Rhode Island? 
— Then l)uy them in Rhode Island ! — You can't 
touch one of my Jersey chickens for a cent less 
than fifty— ^Twenty-five dozen? — I'll make you 
twenty-five at forty-nine — Say, you don't want 
l)roilers: you want setting-hens! (Smith jams re- 
ceiver into its hook. The calf blats again. Very 
loud as he looks off l.) Woodrow ! {The calf 
blats) Woodrow! {Still louder as he strides to- 
ward barn door) Woodrow! 

\A()ODROw. \\^as you callin'? 

Smith. {Gaj^ing up at W\)Odr()w — emphatically) 
\ tbought 1 told \ou to tie that calf so it couldn't 
get away ! 

\\'()(>i)R()W\ I did. 

Smith. Like thunder! I've been chasing it for 
half an hour! {Wipes his forehead) 

Woodrow. {Grinning, as Smith mops brow 
with handkerchief) Did yu catch 'er? 

SivriTH. Come down here! 1 caught her all 



56 WHAT'S WRONG. 

right ! and I'll tie her myself this time. Whereas a 
rope? (As Smith starts tozvards the barn to look 
for a rope — the telephone in his hand, the calf 
Mats) Shut up! (The calf blats) Blat then! 
Keep on blatting. 

WooDROW. (Meekly) Here's a rope. {As 
VVooDROW picks up rope from l. of loft-door^ 
Smith places telephone on ground. Then Wood- 
row tosses rope to him and he catches it. The calf 
blats just as Smith catches the rope) 

Smith. (Goes tozvard l. 4, tying noose in rope 
as he goes) I'll blat you! 

{Exits Smith hurriedly l. 4, tying noose in rope 
as he exits. Woodrow grins at Smith until he 
exits, then sits in the loft-doorway and, dang- 
ling his bare-feet against the side of the barn, 
presses the first two fingers of his right hand 
firmly and perpendicularly against his lips, 
spreads them apart somezvhat, then spits, as if 
trying to see how far he can 'Spit. He then 
wipes his fingers across the leg of his overalls, 
takes a tin buzzer from his pocket, places the 
loops of twine about each hand and begins to 
buzz the buzzer. It zuhistles. Suddenly there 
is a violent hysterical blatting off left, as if 
Smith and the calf were having a rough-and- 
tumble fight. It lasts only a moment or tzvo. 
There is a slight pause, then — Re-enter Smith 
L. 4, his appearance shows that he has had a 
tussle zvith the calf. He limps somezvhat on 
left leg, but has an expression of grim 
triumph.) 

WooDKow. (Grinning at him) Did you tie 
her? 

Smith. You bet I did! And I tied her to stayl 
(Telephone bell rings. Smith dashes to barn 
door but fails to find telephone) Where in thun- 



WHAT'S WRONG. 57 

«ler's the- (.S"tv^ the telephone standing where he 
left it in ham-yard, picks it up. During the follozv- 
iiiij he paces rapidly back and forth across harn- 
vard. In 'phone) Hello !— Yes— Squabs? You 
"bet your— Five a dozen— Certainly, you can get 
squabs cheaper than that! (Sarcastically) You 
can get sparrows cheaper, too. But if you want 
thoro'-bred, milk- fed, full grown squabs youVe got 
to pay full grown prices— Cheaper than that in 
Rhode Island?— Say, you're the fellow who wanted 
milk-fed broilers at mother-hen prices— I don't 
know your name, partner, but I can guess your 
nationality. (Jams receiver in its hook and starts 
tozvard barn. Takes one step then the 'phone 
rings again. He stops and shoves receiver against 
his ear) Hello!— Oh, hello, Eddie! What is it? 

Tell him T*\e changed my mind and don't want 
it- No! I'm not l»uying land now. Everything 
I've got's for sale. Refer everyone to the agent, 
(i'bye. (Jams receiver in hook, and starts tozuard 
ham door to replace 'phone on shelf. Sees \\^ood- 
Kow, zvho is buzzing the buzzer, and halts. Em- 
phatically to WooDROw) Are you coming down 
to-day or next winter? You've been working for 
me two months and you haven't hurried once. 

WooDROW. (Petulantly, as he puts buzzer in 
pocket) I'm hurryin' ! 

Smith. (Pointing at rwi-zvays) Feed those 
chickens some clover. (Starts toivard born door) 

WooDROW\ Gee ! It's hot ! 

(WooDKow swings out of loft door and, hanging 
on the door-sill, guages the distance to the 
ground. He is barefoot; his overalls are shin- 
high and ripped across the left " cheek '' of the 
seat, exposing to viezv a slice of zvhite skin. 
He hangs on the sill as though afraid to drop. 
Smith replaces 'phone on its shelf inside barn, 
then- looking at Woodrow.) 



58 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. Woodrow! Time is money. (Wood- 
row drops to the ground. He stands, stork-like, on 
one foot and begins to pick splinter out of right 
foot which he holds in his hand) Water the 
pigeons. 

Woodrow. (Still picking at splinter) All right. 

Smith. Hurry! (Hastens to barn door. 
Peevishly) All right, but can't a feller take time 
to pick a splinter out of his big toe! (He starts 
dozvn L., walking on toes of right foot) 

Woodrow. (JVhining) Anyway it's too hot to 
hurry ! 

Smith. Never mind the heat! Cut your clover. 
(Grabs rubber coat from peg to i.. of barn door- 
ivay — inside ) 

Woodrow. (As he takes sickle deliberately from 
gate) First thing you know, I'll get sunstroke. 

Smith. (Jerking coat on) You stand as much 
chance of getting sunstruck as the North Pole. 
(He grabs green bee-veil from l. of door and pulls 
it down over hat. As he tucks its edges inside of 
coat-collar and buttons up coat, W'OODROW. sickle in 
hand, stops in front of lower bee-hive and squints 
at it closely) 

Woodrow. (Wisely as he squints at bee-hive's 
entrance board) These here bees're gettin' ready to 
swarm. (As Smith jerks on rubber gloves taken 
from coat pocket) What you oughter do is to kill 
one of the queens. 

Smith. That's what I'm going to do. (Rushes 
down to lower hive) 

W^ooDROw. (Surprised) Ain't you goin' to 
smoke 'em first? 

Smith. Haven't time. 

XA'ooDRow'. Gee ! Then it's me for the clover ! 
(Smith jerks lid off of lower hive) Good morn- 
ing! (He runs to r. 4 e. and exits) 

(Smi'ih tosses the lid to the ground, steps to the 



'■ WHAT'S WRONG. 59 

lozver side of hive — at end of bench — lifts comb 
frame from the hiz'e and examines it to find a 
queen. The 7vax of the frame is black with 
age. One side examined, Smith flops the 
frame over and scans the other side hurriedly. 
The calf tneanwhile, lias been blatting, and con- 
tinues to blat about every tenth second. As 
Smith is scanning the brood-frame, an auto- 
mobile horn sounds off R. Smith, busy with 
frame, pays no attention to the horn. The 
frame examined, Smith places it rather 
roughly on the ground, resting it upright 
against the leg of the bench. He then grabs 
another frame from hive. As he does so, the 
calf Mats very loudly. Enter Mrs. Lef.-Hugh, 
R. 4 E. She wears a light green automobile 
cloak, gloves, and a motoring hat covered with 
a large green veil, which also covers her face. 
Immediately upon entering, Mrs. Lee-Hugh 
glances suspiciously at Smith who is so busy 
with frames that he does not see her, then she 
stops and listens, as if trying to locate the calf. 
The calf blats again, zvhereupon Mrs. Lee- 
Hugh crosses resolutely to l. 4 e. and exits. 
Exit Mrs. Lee-Hugh l. 4 e. Smith, tvho has 
been examining second brood-frame, now places 
it quickly and somewhat roughly against the 
first one and jerks third frame from hive. The 
calf blats a long, angry, defiant blat. As Smith 
starts to examine third brood-frame re-enter 
Mrs. Lee-Hugh, l. 4 e. She goes resolutely 
toward Smith, ivhose back is to her.) 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {With offieial dignity) Are 
K'ow the proprietor of this place? 

Smith. {Busy ivith frame and without looking 
It her) Yes. What do you want — squabs or 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Who tied that calf? 

Smith. {As before) T did and I tied it to 



6o WHAT'S WRONG. 

stay, too! (Flops frame over to examine other 
side) 

Mrs. Lek-Hugh. Well young man, you can 
consider yourself arrested. (Smith glances at her, 
blankly) 

Smith. [As if not comprehending) What? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. As an officer of the law, T 
place you under arrest. 

Smith. Now wait a minute. This is a case of 
mistaken identity. I'm an honest, hard-working 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Emphatically) I am a mem- 
ber of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty. 
Here is my star. {Shotving him nickel-plated star 
on underside of cloak lapel. Taking hold of his 
arm) Come along. , 

Smith. Say, I've no time to listen to your non- 
sense — I'm not a criminal to begin with and in the 
second place I'm entirely too busy to be arrested. 

(Jerks away from her and begins to e.vamiue brood- 
frame, energetically turning it over and over 
during the follozuing scene.) 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Emphatically) You're guilty 
of cruelty 1 I've caught you red handed. I was 
driving past here in my car, and I heard that poor 
calfie crying clear from the road ! Now you take 
off your veil and come with me. 

Smith. (Politely but emphatically) Madam, 1 
don't know who you are but let me remind you of 
this vital fact — These bees have not been smoked. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (IVisely) Oh, you can't bluff 
me that way ! 

Smith. I'm not trying to bluff you, but if you 
stay here much longer you'll get stung. Under- 
stand? Stung! 

(He is no'iV very close to Mrs. Li:i:-1Ugii. She 
peers into his face, her nose almost touching 



WHAT'S WRONCi. 6t 

his nose, then faces are close together. 
Then — ) 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Delightfully surprised) Why. 
Mr. Smith! (Lets go his arm and extends her 
hand) How do you do? 

Smith. (Baffled) T heg your pardon, hut 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Szveetly) Don't you remeni- 
her me? (Puts her face close to his) 

Smith. Your manner is somewhat familiar, hut 
—Raise the curtain. T can't see your face. 

(Mrs. Lee-Hugh raises veil and smiles.) 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. No7i' don't you recos^nize me? 

(vVisTTTH places brood -frame on top of the hive, 
looks curiously at Mrs. Lee-Httgh, then—^ 

Smith. You're prohahly a very celebrated 
woman, hut T'm up to mv neck in bees and — who 
are you? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Fetchingly) Why. 1 am the 
friend of the poor old horse you are pensionino! 

f Smith's face (/rows long.) 

SMrni. Oh. 

Mrs. Tj:e-Hugh. Fm on my way now to the 
farm where the dear old pet lives. 

SisiTTH. Then don't let me detain you. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Oh. you're not— It's a 
pleasure. (Smiling, as she offers her hand, a la 
S'li'an's neck) But what on earth are you doing- way 
out here? 

Smith. Restin"! (He iurns abnif^tly to hee- 
hii'c and snatches up brood frame) 

Mrs. Lke-Hugh. (Radiantly) 1 have wonder- 
ful new'S for you, Mr. Smith ! Lve heen intending 
to write you. 



C^2 WHAT'S WRONG, 

Smith. (Suspiciously) What is it? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Girlishly silly) Guess f 

Smith. (As he shoves veil up on hat, exposing 
face to view) My dear old horse has galloped up 
the golden stairs. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh, Guess again I {She places tips 
of fingers to lips as if trying to suppress a chuckle) 

Smith. YouVe sold it. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Smiling, as she shakes her 
head) Once more. 

Smith. {Hopefully) You've sent him to the 
XVhite House for a wedding present. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Shaking her head and smil- 
ing) It is such glorious news! Can't you guess? 

Smith. T haven't time to monkey with guessing 
—tell me. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Well, yesterday 

Smith. {Affecting a smile) Yes — go on — tell 
me — yesterday 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Early yesterday morning the 
dear old horse that you have been pensioning— — — 
{Pauses) 

Smith. {Impatiently) Yes, yes — Go on, don't 
stop, you might forget. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Well, the dear old horse — 

{She chuckles. Smith grabs pencil and paper from 
coat pocket and shoves them to her.) 

Smith. Write it! If you can't say it, write it! 
Mrs. Lee-Hugh. I prefer to tell it. 
Smith. {Irritated) Then fr// it ! Quick! Time 
is 

{He jams pencil and paper in coat pocket and Mrs. 
Lee-Hugh nerves herself into calmness.) 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Well, early yesterday morn- 
ing the dear old horse that you have been pensioning 
found a coltie- 



WHAT^S WRONG. 63 

Smith. {Puzded) I don't quite grasp you. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Now quite serious — disgusted 
with Smith's stupidity) Frankly, and putting it 
bluntly, Mr. Smith, your horse is the mother of a 
colt. 

(Smith is staggered at this news. Gaining his 
equilibrium, he places his hand tenderly on his 
forehead.) 

Smith. (IVeakly — recovering from the shock) 
Why the old son-of-a-gun ! 

Mrs. Lf.e-Hugh. (Disappointed) Why don't 
3^ou smile? 

Smith. {Thoughtfully) I'm trying to figure out 
who the joke is on, me or the horse. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugii. On you, of course. 

Smith. Who's going to support Coltie? 

Mrs. T.ef-Hugh. {Smiling) You are — of 
course. 

Smith. Not if 1 know myself! 

\ Jerks veil down over face. Tucks it into coat 
collar and goes to bee-hive.) 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Indignantly) Mr. Smith, you 
are no gentleman ! 

(Smith zvith frame in hand, turns to Mrs. Lee- 
Hugh.) 

Smith. We won't argue that point. (Then 
abruptly) Are your skirts hobbled? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Precise) That's none of your 
lii^siness! 

Smith. We won't argue that point, either, but 
bees are no respecters of persons and they have 
bccv. knozvn to migrate upwards. 



64 VVHAT'^ WRONG. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. It takes more than bees to 
make nic desert my duty. 

Smith. MI right! All right! Stay! Stay!! 
Rut if anything awful happens, don't blame me. 

(As v'^MTTH places bee frame on ground directly in 
front of Mrs. Lee-Hugh, Phoebe Snow opens 
shutters and pokes her head out,) 

Phoebe. Mistah Smith. 

Smith. Yes. What do you want, Phoebe? 

Phoebe. (Deliberately) Yuh bwekfast was done 
ready an' on de table three hours ago. 

Smith. All right. Keep it there and I'll eat it 
for dinner. 

Phoebe. But 

Smith. ( EniphaticaUy) Busy! 

Phoebe. All right! Starve if yuh want to! T 
should worry! (Jerks her head inside and slams 
shutters shut) 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (JJ'ith icy emphasis, as Smith 
is about to take another frame from, hive) Mr. 
Smith, are you, or are you not, going to support that 
roltie ? 

Smith. Not 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Caustically) What would 
\()U do with the poor little thing? 

Smith. Ship it to France for chipped beef — and 
send mama along for veal. 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Outraged) You cruel, bitter 
thing! 

Smith. (Dramatically — going toward her) Who 
made me bitter? 

Mrs. T>ee-LTugh. {Sarcastically) How should T 
know ? 

Smith. You told me that horse was on its last 
legs and now it is the mother of a brand new colt. 
Can you blame me for being bitter? 

Mrs. Lee-LIugh. Just the same, Mr. Smith, you 
liWiT to provide for that little- 



WHAT'S WRONG. • 65 

Smith. Yes, but suppose that little coltie, 
following in the footsteps of its rickety old mother 
1)rings into the world another colt, and that colt a 
cult, and that colt a colt. Am I to be a fairy god- 
father to all of them? Mrs. Lee-Hugh, I hope to 
have a family of my own some day. Can that hope 
be realized if I dissipate my earnings on a flock of 
promiscuous quadrupeds? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugii. {Shaking her finger in his face) 
Let me tell you right now, Mr. Smith, if you don't 
provide for that coltie Sind—(She hesitates, glances 
front, then clutches her cloak in the vicinity of her 
left knee-just bchnc the joint, and yelps sharply) 
Ooch ! 

( Smith glances at her. Her left hand still clutch- 
inq her left leg, she grabs her right leg just 
above the knee, zvinces zvith pain, grits teeth 
and stares front, frightened, as if expecting, yet 
dreading, another sting.) 

Smith. Pardon me, but is there anything I can 
do to relieve you ? 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Savagely) Mind your own 
affairs! (She clutches the calf of her left leg and 
(/asps with pain) Ooh! 

Smith. 'PTadn't you better let me smoke them? 

( Mrs. Lee-Hugh clutches her right leg spasmod- 
ically, then her right knee with left hand.) 

Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (IVildh, os she grabs hyster- 
ically at all parts of her limbs) Help! Help! 
Help! (Smith dashes to barn, seizes smoker from 
shelf at L. of door, inside barn, rushes down to 
Mrs. Lee-Hugh and begins to smoke her vigorously 
all over. Mrs. Lee-Hugh shaking fist at him) 
You're to blame for this! You zvanted them to 
sting me! No7V T will send the sheriff after you! 



66 WHAT'S WRONG. 

{Grabbing limbs as before) Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! 

{Dashes up to R. 4 e., and off, Smith following and 
trying to smoke her. At R. 4, he turns, runs 
back to the hive and begins to smoke bees. As 
Mrs. Lee-Hugh exits, the calf lets out a 
long loud agonizing blat. This is the last time 
it blats. Enter Woodrow, r. 4 e., with an arm. 
load of clover. When in front of barn door, 
he lets out a terrified howl, drops the clover 
and dashes into barn. A moment later he 
dashes out of barn, batting his ears zvith his 
hands; hurdles the pile of clover, and dashes 
off L. 4 E. The next moment, the auto horn 
sounds, off R. A few moments later it sounds 
again, farther off.) 

Woodrow. {Peeking in first, enters cautiously, 
rubbing his right ear and whimpering) H you'd 
smoked 'em when I told you to, I wouldn't a got 
stung. 

Smith. {As he replaces brood-frames in hive) 
They're all right now. They won't sting any more. 

Woodrow. Wow! {Now at pile of clover in 
front of barn. Grabs his nose with both hands — 
then, blubbering) Like thunder they won't! I've 
got a stinger in my nose as long as your arm ! 
{Boo-hooes) 

{The telephone bell rings zvithin barn, Smith slaps 
lid on hive and rushes to barn, grabs telephone 
from shelf and thrusts it beneath veil. During 
the follozving, in which he half-faces front, he 
looks like a heavily veiled monk, the bee netting 
completely hiding his face and the 'phone. HE 
paces all over the stage, more nervous and 
faster than before.) 

Smith. Hello! — Yes — This is the George H. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 67 

Smith chicken farm. Broilers?— You bet your-- 
iMfty cents— My chickens are milk-fed and thoro - 
bred— You can't beat Jersey chickens. All right! 
Forty dozen— Yes, sirl This afternoon's express— 
iHR jams recewer in hook) Rush order from 
New York! (Jerking off hat and veil) Where s 

the men ? , , • j 

WuuDROW ^Lookiny cross-eyed at his nose and 

trying to pick out the stinger) White washmg the 

new chicken coops. . t. , j f ^ 

Smith Run and get 'em! Rush order from 

New York {HE throws veil and hat aside. 

VvuoDROw starts tozuards l. 4 E-. ^^^^^ ^^^"^9 ^^ get 

the stinger) Run! u ^ f^ 

\\\)ODuow. (Screwing up face) Its too hot to 

run ! 

Smith. Then fly! 

VVuODROW. (Whimpering, as HE runs toward 
h. 4) What-a you think I am— a bird! 

{ Exit WooDKow on a la::y dog-trot, l. 4 e., caress- 
ing nose as HE exits.) 
Smith (Jerks out watch, glances at it, then 
rushes to L. 4 E. Loudly, to Woodrow ) H u r r y ! 
(Enter Perry Dodge, leisurely, r. 4 e. Mh is 
fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan, wears 
a Panama hat, a tzvo piece summer suit and looks 
cool Smith, looking off Right, is unaware of his 
entrance. Placing hands to mouth megaphone-like) 
Hurry 1 

{Starts toward barn door, sees Perry, and stops 
short. Perry, who has been fanning himself 
complacently, salutes Smith ivith fan.) 

Perry (Genially calm) W^ell, here 1 am! 
Smith. Hello! Why didn't you come yester- 
day? I wired vou. Didn't you get it?^ 

Perry. Yes,' hni— (Smiles and begins to fan 



68 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith who is now beside him) Georf^^e. T have a 
littlt' surprise f6r you. 

(Smith shoves fan aside.) 

Smith. Keep it! {.4s fast as a man can speak) 
I've had one surprise. I want to talk lousiness. 
Listen : The poultry business in this country's a 
o^old mine. Few people know it but those that do 
are getting;- rich. Listen— A o^ood healthy egg costs 
five cents. Shove it into an incubator for three 
weeks and out comes a chicken. Feed the chicken 
four months. If he's a rooster, sell him for a 
dollar. If he's a hen, keep him and make him lay 
eggs. Either way, the profit is six thousand per 
cent. And so long as the American people con- 
tinue to eat broilers at fifty cents a pound and Qg^^^ 
at fifty cents a dozen, it's a sure thing. Not only 
that. Squabs ! Big money ! Profits enormous ! 
From one little pair of pigeon eggs a man can make 
a fortune. 

Perr^'. But 

Smith. (Sfoppinc/ him with a silencing (jesture) 
I'm going to raise squabs and chickens by the 
thousands and make a bankful of monev. A bank- 
f ul ! 

Perry. 1 thought you came over here to 

Smith. And I'm going to let you in on it. 

Pkrry. (Fanning vSmjth) How much stuc1< do 
you want me to buy? 

Smith. There isn't going to be any stock -- 
strictly an honest enterprise, and I'm going to make 
you my partner. 

Perry. (Drily, after he stops fanning) Thanks 
for the com])liment, George. l)ut-^^ — 

(Smiles and begins to fan Smith sh)wly.) 

Smith. Now listen : Nou're manufacturing hulled 
corn, aren't you? 



WHAT'S WKONCi. 69 

Perry. Yes. 

Smith. What do you do with the hulls? 

Perry. Nothing-. 

S^riTH. In the chicken husiness, you can turii 
your hulls into money. W^ith our poultry eatinsj^ 
your hulls practically everything will l)e clear profit. 
Think of it! Six thousand per cent! No7v will 
\ou be my ])artner? 

Pi:rry. I'm sorry, George, but 

Smttti. Aren't the profits big enough? 

Perry. Yes, but Marjorie and I are going to 
move to Seattle. 

Smith. (Ama::;ed) What! 

Perry. {Siniling) That was the little surprise \ 
had for you. 

Smith. (Incredulous) Seattle! 

Perr^-. Yes- -in the state of Washington, — ^you 
ktiow. 

Smith. Yes, yes, 1 know, but what in thunder 
are you going way out there for? Isn't New York 
big enough for you? 

Perry. {Gravely) That's just the trouble, 
(ieorge — it's too big. 

Smith. P)Ut why Seattle? • Why not Jersey? 
Hiere's plenty of room over here. 

I*ERRY. (Good nafuredly but very seriously) Yes, 
but after all New Jersey is little more than a suburb 
of New York, and Marjorie and 1 want to get away 
from this New York spirit — you know, S P E E I) 
and MONEY. 

Smith. \\ by should you want to get away from 
it? It hasn't affected you. You're just as slow as 
}ou\e cilways been. 

Perry. (Fanning himself) Yes, and so is 
Marjorie. Roth of us are just as sensible and 
deliberate and inseparable now as when we lived 
1)ack home. I^)Ut if we continue to stay in New 
York, the New York spirit will get us. 
• Si\i iTii. Nonsense ! 



70 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Perry. It got you. It's getting the other boys. 
And if 1 stay here, sooner or later it will get me. 

Smith. (Somewhat disgusted) So you're going 
to move to quiet little Seattle? 

Perry. Yes. Marjorie is digging up her favorite 
bulbs and rose bushes now — going to take them out 
there and start the new home right. And I'm going 
to introduce my hulled-corn into British Columbia 
and make just enough money to keep us comfort- 
abl}^ (Smith tries to interrupt — but Perry silences 
him zvith fan and keeps on talking) Beginning with 
the first day of next month, I shall be a proud citizen 
of the Great Far West, the land where people live. 

Smith. Now let me finish what I was saying — 
and don't talk all the time yourself. 

Perry. (Interrupting him) Now just a minute, 
(ieorge ■ 

Smith. (Impatient) See that barn? (Pointing 
at barn) Chuck full of incubators and shipping 
crates! (Indicating pigeon coops) See those 
pigeons? They live forever and have an infinite 
capacity for squabs, and I'm going to make all four 
sides of that old barn look like one great pigeon 
coop. (Pointing to r. and l.) And come here — 
see those run-ways — (Rushes to l. 4 e.) Hurry I 

Perry. Now wait a minute, George 

Smith. (Pointing off left) See those chicken 
coops. That's where the mother hens are shelling 
out the golden eggs for my incubators. And the 
eggs that won't hatch I'll sell to the restaurants in 
New York. God bless them ! Go down and take a 
look at 'em. 

Perry. (Good naturedly but emphatically) All 
right, but before I move another inch, you've got to 
let me ask one question. 

Smith. (Jerks watch from pocket and glances 
at it) Ask it! Quick! What is it? Afy time's 
money. 

Perry. Now that you have plunged into the 



WHAT'S VVRONc;. yr 

chicken business, are you going to stay in the land 
husiness too? 

Smith. No. There's more m'oney in chickens 
and I love this quiet life. 

Perry. Will you need a stenographer? 

Smith. No, that's one of the beauties of this 
husiness. All you need are eggs, incubators and a 
telephone. For a while T thought I'd have to get a 
bookkeeper but I chang-^d my mind and got a cash- 
register. 

Perry. Then T don't suppose you will need Miss 
Brown? 

Smith. No, not here. Hens and petticoats don't 
jibe. Why? 

Perry. Marjorie wants her to come out to 
Seattle and live with us. I can give her a good 
position. You won't object, will you? 

Smith. No take her along. She's a nice girl 
and she's been doing splendid work for me in South 
America, but as I say, a poultry farm is no place 
for a lady. Take her. I don't need her any longer. 

Perry. When will she return from South 
America? 

Smith. (Glancing impatiently at zvatch) I don't 
know. Now my chicken coops are brand new and — 

Pf.rry. [Somewhat surprised and puzzled) Have 
\ on written her that you're going out of the land 
business? 

Smith. I intended to but haven't had time. 
( Taking Perry by arm and escorting him tozvard 
L. 4) Hurry down and take a look at those new 
chicken cops. Pd go with you myself but Pve got 
a rush order from New York and — (Enter Wood- 
row, L. 4 E. HE has a cockerel in his arms. His 
nose is very large, due to the bee sting. Eagerly to 
\\'ooDROw) Did you tell the men? (Before 
WooDROw can answer. Smith sees the chicken and 
starts towards Woodrow) What're you doing with 
that chicken? Is he sick? 



-2 \\^HAT^S WRONG. 

WooDRow. (/7.S- Smith takes chicken from hiin) 
He acts like it, 

(Sm(tu takes hold of chicken's head.) 

SxMiTH. Great Scott 1 He's got a fever ! {Then 
loudlv, fozuard house— ) Phoebe I Phoebe! Come 
here 1 Hurry! (HE pulls the fozvl's bill apart, 
looks dozvn its throat. Disgusted to Perry) Can 
you beat that for luck I 

Pi£KRv. \Miat's the matter? 

Smith, This broiler's got the mumps, {Look- 
ing down chicken's throat again) Gad. on botli 
sides! (Loudly and angrily) Phoebe! 

( Phokbe enters, from the kitchen door. She wears 
a bhte kitchen apron and waddles when she 
walks. ) 

Phokbe. Yes, suh. Pse comin'. 

Smith. Hurry! 

PfiOEBK. (Standing at top of steps- indignantly ) 
Dis am a fine day to hurry I 

Smith, (Impatient) Come on! Stop that wad- 
dling! Walk! Move! Hurry! 

PiioKni:. I won't hurry I 

Smith. I don't want you to hurry! .Vll J want 
\()U to do is to cook some hot bran mash for this 
sjcl< chicken just as (|uick as you can. Quick!' 

( n L is no-K' at bottom of steps- she at lop of them ) 

pH()i-.j!i:. (.Inger rising) Now youse look out 
tiow you talk to me, Mistah Smith ! Pse a lady, suh. 
Yes. suh! An' I ain't goin' to l)e talked to like I 
wahn't no lady. No, suh! 

.Smith, (.is if trying to cool her down) Now 
listen 

!*iioKiu:. ( . higrily, as SI Ui descends steps slowly ) 



WHAT'S WRONG. 73 

Don't you *' listen " me ! Youse had five cooks 'fore 
T came here an' dey all quit. Why? {Shaking her 
finger at him) 'Cause youse wanted dem to do 
every'ting in a liurry. Hurry ! Hurry ! Hurry ! 
All de time ! Yes, suh ! An' dey all quit ! An' I'se 
goin' to quit, too! Yes, suh. (SHE is nozv face to 
face zvith him and begins to untie her apron strings) 

Smith. (Laying hand on her shoulder, persua- 
sii'dy) Now look here, Phoebe 

Phoebe. Don't youse " Phoebe " me ! From now 
on I'se Mrs. Phoebe Snow. Yes, suh. T'se cooked 
for de best families in South Ca'lina. An' now 
\'0use want me to cook for an ole sick chickun. 
What d' youse t'ink I am — a roustabout nigger? 
No. suh ! ' 

Smith. (Trying to pacify her) You're dead 
right, Mrs. Snow. You're the best cook that ever 
greased a griddle. But 

Phoebe. Don't youse try to honey me up. Me — 
goin' to cook for an ole sick chickun ! No, suh ! 

Smith. (Friendly) Now look here. Mrs. Snow— 

Phoebe. (Hurls apron to ground, and shaking fist 
in his face) Yuh git an automobil' an' take me back 
to dat railroad station just as quick as yuh can." 
Yes, suh ! 

Smith. H you leave here, you'll walk. Under- 
stand ? 

Phoebe. (Savagely defiant) All right, Mistah 
Smith! I'll walk, (SHE wabbles angrily up steps, 
'rurning on him) but I ain't no chicken cook — No, 
suh! (Then, as SHE opens kitchen door) No. 
suh! 

(Exit Phoebe, head high, into kitchen. SHE slams 
door shut. During Smith's scrap with 
Phoebe, Perry and Woodrow have been 
amused onlookers. They stand near the barn 
door.) 

Smith. (Turns to Perry) When you get 



74 WHAT'S WRONG. 

back to New York, send me a cook that'll cook for 
ch^'ckens. Never mind me! I'm all right. But my 
chickens must be taken care of ! (HE tucks the 
chickens under ricjht arm and taking hold of Perry's 
arm with left hand, starts towards l. 4 e.) Now 
run dow^n and take a look at those coops. Hurry ! 
{Shoves Perry off — then looks at watch) 

Phoebe. (IVho has throzvn shutters open and 
sticks her head out) Mistah Smith. I hope you 
can't git anoder cook as long as you live ! 

Smith. (Hotly, to Phoebe) You get out of 
here! I'll do the cooking myself. 

WooDROw. (In despair) Oh, Lordy ! 

Phoebe. (Sarcastically) Ha! Ha! (Withdraws 
her head from window) 

Smith. (To Woodrow) Turn him loose in the 
garden so he can't mix with the rest of the broilers. 
(Shoves chicken into his arm) 

Woodrow. (Remonstrating) But he'll eat up all 
the tomaters ! 

Smith. Never mind the tomatoes. They'll do 
him good. Tie a red string round his hind leg so 
we'll know him. 

Woodrow. But- 

Smith. Hurry I 

Woodrow. (Hotly) All right! 

(Exit Woodrow on the run, r. 4. Smith dashes 
into barn and exits l. Slight pause, then re- 
enter Smith from barn, carrying a lath-and- 
wire chicken crate on his shoidder. Runs down 
to lozver run-way, drops crate in front of run- 
zvay gate then dashes up to barn, snatches 
galvanized iron bucket filled zvith wheat, from 
inside and to r. of doorway, runs back to lower 
run-zvay — jerks gate open — enters run-way, 
closes gate then exits l. 2, calling " Chick! 
Chick! Come Chick!" and hurling broadcast 
handfuls of zvheat rapidly.) 



WHAT'S WRONG. 75 

Smith. {Rapidly and loudly, as he exits, scatter- 
ing wheat) Chick, chick, chick, chick! Come 
(.hick! Come chick! Chick, chick, chick, chick, 
chick ! Come chick ! Come chick ! 

{ h E keeps this up — off stage l. for almost a minute 
then stops. After Smith has been calling 
" Chick, chick " about ten seconds, re-enter 
WooDROW, R. 4, carrying the sick chicken, a 
piece of red rag round its leg. HE enters 
cautiously, stops a moment and listens to 
Smith as if half -frightened and wondering 
what to do zuith the chicken — muttering to him- 
self.) 

W ooDRovv. I ain't goin' to turn no sick chicken 
loose in them tomaters if he's going to do the 
cook in' ! 

{HE starts towards barn-door, espies chicken crate 
in front of lozver run-way, stops, grins impishly, 
looks carefully off l. 2 — as if to make sure 
Smith is not watching him— then opens lid of 
crate quickly — slips chicken into crate and 
closes lid. HE then drags crate to house- 
shoves it under window, then runs up and 
exits. R. 4. As WooDROw exits, Smith stops 
calling to the chickens. Then Phoebe Snow 
pokes her head out of the windozv. SHE now 
wears a large black hat gaudily trim^med with 
bright yellozu flowers and yards of cheap 
ribbon. ) 

PHOi:;r>E. (Angrily, as she pokes her head out of 
windoiv) Mistah Smith — I — {Not seeing Smith 
she stops short then mumbles angrily to herself) 
1 want you to understand dat Fse — I'se a perfectly 
honest woman — yes, suh! 

( The sick cockerel in the crate crows hoarsely and 



76 WHAT'S WRONG. 

souiewhat weakly but zvith considerable enthu- 
siasm. Phoebe stops short. SHE sees the 
chicken in the crate; stares at it her eyes grow- 
ing bigger and bigger. SHE glances around to 
he sure that no one is zvatching her, then she 
stoops down and raises the lid of the crat? — 
then after much difficulty, gets hold of the 
cockerel — lifts him out of the crate and disap- 
pears. Re-enter Smith, from lower run-way. 
bucket in hand and on the run. HE jerks open 
lower run-zvay gate, dashes out, runs to next 
run-zvay gate, jerks it open, then — ) 

Smith. Hurry, Woodrow ! Hurry! {Jumps 
inside run-way, slams gate shut and exits off run- 
■:c<t\ calling "Chick, chick, chick!" and scattering 
wheat. Loudly and rapidly as he exits off 2nd run- 
zvay) Chick, chick, chick, chick! Come chick, 
come chick ! Chick, chick, chick, chick ! Come 
chick, come chick ! 

(Exit Smith, 2nd run-zvay — calling as before 
" Chick, chick," etc. Enter Phoebe, f^'om 
kitchen door. SHE wears an old long linen 
duster and carries a dingy old cloth-covered 
telescope bag. SHE comes down majestically 
and places ihc telescope bo'i on the (jrouyid near 
R. 4 — while she buttons her duster. During 
this, Smith is heard calling to the chickens. 
W'ooDKOw enters r. 4. At this moment the 
cockerel crows hoarsely in the telescope. 
WooDROw quickly glances in the crate and takes 
in the situation — stands motionless looking at 
Phoebe. Phoebe glances about quickly to see 
if any one has heard the croiv — her eyes light on 
Woodrow. There is a dramatic pause. Wood- 
row grins at her. SHE tries not to look at 
him but keeps glancing at him in spite of her- 
self. HE doesn't take his eyes off her — keeps 



WHAT'S W R()N( 



// 



right on grinning. Phoebk zvatches him, her 
eyes growing big zvith fear and indignation. 
Presently she picks np teleseop'' sio\'lv tin ' 
gingerly, but without taking her eyes off 
WooDROW — then. ) 

Phoebe. (Indignantly) Say, chile, w'at you grin- 
nin' at? (Woodrow keeps on grinning) Don't yer 
'cuse me of steal' anything. I'se an honest woman- 
Yes, suh! You tell Mr. Smith I don't cook fer no 
sick chickens — no. suh! {Fh^iinees off k. 4 !•: . ) 

{Re-enter Smith, rapidly, froui 2nd ni}i--aHi\, call- 
ing Woodrow. HE is just in time to see 
Phoebe go. Has bucket in hand as before. 
Comes throHdh gateway, slams gate sJiuf. ) 

Smith. Oh, she's gone, eh? 

Woodrow. Yep — an' T bet she lias the chicke 1 
mumps to-morrow ! 

Smith. What makes you think so? 

^^ ooDf^ow Oh, 1 dunno — somethin' jest tells me. 

Smith. (To Woodrow, with fresh energ-y) IHere 
kid — You get the rest of the broilers into their coops 
— {Shoving bucket at him) And I'll carry the 
crates. Now! Speed it up! (Woodrow accepts 
the bucket and Smith dashes to barn. Woodrow 
goes toward gate of third run-way. From door- 
way of barn, as Woodrow opens gate deliberately) 
Speed it up! (Exit into barn) 

Woodrow. I am speedin' ! (flE enters rzoz-Tr M'. 
closes gate then exits calling very listlessly, in con- 
trast to Smith's calling — ''Chick, chick, chick, 
chick!'' As he goes off third run-wav) Chick! 
Chick! Chick! Chick! 

(HE can be heard calling chickens, off 1.. about 
fifteen seconds. Re-enter Smith from baryi 
dragging a chicken crate behind him. HE 



7^ WHAT'S WRONG. 

rushes down to lower run-way, slams crate on 
ground, then rushes to l. 4 and puts hands to 
mouth like megaphone.) 

Smith. {As loud as he can yell) Hey \ This is a 
rush order from New York! Move! {Dashes into 
barn and exits l. Jennie Brown appears at R. 4 e. 
SHE wears pretty traveling suit and a neat summer 
hat and carries a parasol. Pauses a moment, then 
enters and, advancing a few steps, stops and sur- 
veys the barnyard. SHE is very happy because she 
thinks Smith is enjoying his rest here on the farm 
and also because she likes him. SHE has just 
arr'wed from South America and come direct from 
the dock to the farm. Re-enter Smith from barn, 
a chicken crate on each shoulder. HE hastens dozvn 
to second run-way, drops the crates in front of it. 
then, jerking out watch, stares at it. Jennie mean- 
ivhile has been gazing at him as if completely dumb- 
founded. SHE thought he was resting and here he 
is hurrying itforse than ever. Smith, exasperated 
at lateness of the hour — staring at watch) My God ! 
( Throzvs back head and, loudly, as if trying to make 
the tvhole ivorld hear) Hurry! 

{HE starts tozvards barn door on a gallop — Jennie 
holds out her parasol, like a flagman stopping a 
train. Smith halts abruptly. HE is so sur- 
prised he can't speak — just stares at her.) 

Jennie. 1 thought you came over here to rest. 

Smith. I am resting. {HE sees the pile of 
clover which \\''oodrow dropped, rushes to it, grabs 
it up in both arms, dashes to run-tiray, hurls it over 
fence into run-zvay — then rushes back to Jennie 
rapidly and enthusiastically as he seizes her hand 
and shakes it) Golly, but it's good to see you! 

Jennie. {Pleasantly) Have you been resting that 
way ever since I went to South America? 

Smith. No. The first two weeks T did nothing 



WHAT'S WRONC;. 79 

but wnte letters— to you. 1 wrote three and four 
a day, and long ones, too. Weren't they? 

Jennie. Yes, and very mteresting. 

Smith. Say, but you're lookmg finel 

Jennie. For a while, they came in bundles on 
every steamer. . 

Smith. (Adminng her) You know id just 
about forgotten how you looked. 

Jennie. Suddenly they didn't come at all Were 

vou ilir ' ^ ^ 

Smith. When did you get back— to-day r 
Jennie. Yes. IVere you ill? 

Smith. Why didn't you let me know you were 
coming? Woodrow could have met you at the 
village and brought you out. 

Jennie. {Smiling and zvitPi a touch of sympathy) 
Well, I knew that you came here to rest, so T didn't 
want to disturb you. 

Smith. No disturbance at all. You should have 
told me when you were coming. 

Jennie. To be honest with you, I did tell you. 

Smith. {Piisded) You did? 

Jennie. Yes! 

Smith. When? 

Jennie. In my last three letters. Didn t you 
receive them? 

Smith. Yes, hvX— {Pauses) 

Jennie. But what? ^ 

Smith. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I haven t 
read your last three letters. 

Jennie. {Surprised, hut quietly, her feelings 
deeply hurt) You— you haven't ? 

Smith. {Apologetic) It wasn't because I didn't 
want to read them. Really it wasn't! 

Jennie. {As if censuring herself) I suppose 1 
should have written them on a typewriter. 

Smith. That wasn't it. I could read them all 
right. At first I read every letter you wrote. They 
Yv^rv wonderful! (Jennie smiles d roily) Really 



^o WHAT'S WRONG. ' ] 

they were. ]f I'd kept on reading those letters Vd \ 

fallen in love with you. j 

Jennie. Was that why you stopped? 

Smith. Not at all! Not at all! But you see it [ 

just happened that lately whenever your letters j 

arri\ ed, the incubators were hatching- and when the ; 

incubators hatch, I have absolutely no time for any- i 

thing but chickies. i 

Jennie. (Puzi^led) Chickies? ; 

Smith. [Explaining rapidly) Yes— little ; 

chickens, l)aby chickens — chickens de luxe. \Vhen j 

they start to come out of the shell, I'm up there j 

every minute {Pointiny at barn-loft) to see that j 

none of those downy little fellows get scorched. ( 

And believe me, when one thousand eggs are j 

simultaneously turning into one thousand chickies, j 

it keeps me busy. Busy ! ' 

Jennie. I wondered why you had almost for- \ 
gotten how I looked. 

Smith. {Puzizled) W' hat do you mean? ; 

Jennie. Chickies were probably coming the day , 

my photograph arrived. \ 

Smith. (Surprised) Did you — (Telephone rings. ' 

Smitfi dashes to barn, grabs 'phone and during the \ 

following comes rapidly dozvn to Jennie and paces \ 

back and forth in front of her. Jennie has to keep i 

stepping over the wire to prevent getting tangled up ' 

in it. Smith talks rapidly and intensely) Hello! — ■ 

Yes — Squabs? I've got the best squabs that ever s 

came out of an egg or went into an oven — Five a ; 

dozen and milk-fed — Yes, sir! Milk-fed! — Ten • 

dozen? They'll be there to-night. — Yes, sir — milk- j 

fed. .Vbsolutely! (Hanging up recei^rr) W^ood- i 

row ! ; 

WooDRow. (Off L.) Yep! 

Smith. Give the squabs some more water! : 

(Dashes to barn and replaces 'phone on shelf) i 

Jennie. I'm afraid this place isn't doing you j 
much good, after all. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 8i 

Smith. (Coming down) Oh, yes it is. There's a 
l)ig chance here to make a lot of easy money and I 
love the quiet life — Listen — (Stops in front of her) 
Tlie poultry business in this country is a gold mine. 
One good htalthy egg costs a nickel. Shove it into 
an incubator and out comes a chickie. Give him a 
little grain, a little grass, a little exercise and lots of 
water, and the first thing you know he's ready for 
New York. If he's a rooster, sell him. If he's a 
hen keep him. Either way you make a clear profit 
of approximately six thousand per cent. Doesn't 
that sound like a gold mine? 

Jennie. Yes, but it isn't. 

Smith. Why not? 

Jennie. Do all your eggs turn into chickies? 

Smith. No, but 

Jennie. Do all your chickies live? 

Smith. No, but 

Jennie. Do they buy their own food? 

Smith. No, but 

Jennie. Do they build their own houses? 

Smith. No, but 

Jennie. When the roosters are old enough to go 
to New York, do they pay their own railroad fare 
or do you pay it for them? 

Smith. I pay it, but 

Jennie. And if you send all your roosters to 
New York will all your eggs hatch ? 

Smith. No, but 

Jennie. And don't you consider your own time 
worth anything? 

Smith. Yes, but 

Jennie. Then I don't quite understand how you 
are going to make a clear profit of even six hundred 
per cent. 

Smith. Well, you see 

Jennie. We used to raise chickens and w^e did 
well if we broke even. 



82 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. Yes, but you didn't go into it as a profes- 
sion. 

Jennie. Happily, no. 

Smith. Do you consider it a disgrace to raise 
chickens? 

Jennie. Certainly not — but don't you consider it 
unfortunate for a splendid specimen of manhood to 
enter into direct competition with a setting hen? 
(Starts toward ktchen steps) 

Smith. Where're you going? 

Jennie. As I came up the road a few minutes 
ago, I met a Mrs. Snow. I am going to get your 
breakfast. (Starts again) 

Smith. (Follozving her) Never mind my break- 
fast! 

(Jennie stops and faces him. He pauses.) 

Jennie. You came to this farm to rest and eat 
three square meals a day. 

Smith. I know it, but 

Jennie. When your breakfast is ready, I shall 
call you. (Goes towards kitchen steps, Smith 
watching her) 

(Enter Perry Dodge l. 4, fanning himself. ) 

Perry. (Surprised to -see Jennie) Well, well, 
well! (Going tozvard her) When did you leave 
South America? 

Jennie. Shortly after Mr. Smith married his 
incubators. (As Perry shakes hands with her) 
And it's a good thing I did. Mr. Smith hasn't had 
anything to eat since yesterday. 

Perry. He's too busy. 

Jennii-:. (Drolly) Resting. (Smiles at Smith, 
then goes to kitchen steps — up them and is opening 
kitchen door when — ) 

Perry. Just a moment, Miss Brown. (She closes 



WIdAT'S WRONG. 83 

the door) W'q have some good news for yoit. 
Haven't we George? 

Smith. (As he jerks out watch) Yes, but keep 
it a while — I want you to see my new incubators. 
(Grabs Perry by the arm and starts toward barn 
door) Come on! Hurry! 

Perry. (Glancing back at Jennie as Smith pulls 
him along) I'll see you later. 

Jennie. I hope so. (Exit Smith and Perry 
into barn. Enter Woodrow, third run-zvay, carry- 
ing wheat bucket. Jennie, about to exit into 
kitchen, looks at him a moment and he, about to 
open run-way gate, peeps at her through the gate. 
He is surprised and curious. She is amused. 
Pleasantly) Are you Mr. Smith's hired man? 

Woodrow. (Bashfully) Yes — one of 'em. 

Jennie. (Going toward him as he opens the gate) 
Then I suppose we might as well introduce our- 
selves. 

WooDRov^. Yes'm. 

Jennie. My name is Brown, What is yours? 

Woodrow. \\^oodrow. 

[en^;ie. I am glad to meet you, W^oodrow. 
(Offering him her hand) 

\V()ODROW. 'Scuse me. (He sets the bucket 
down. Wipes palm of hand on overalls, to clean it, 
then puts it in Jennie's) 

Jennie. (As she shakes Woodrow's hand) We're 
going to be good friends, aren't we, Woodrow? 

Woodrow. (Trying not to be bashful) Yes'm — ■ 
Fm willin'. 

Jennie. (Smiling, and laying her hand on his 
shoulder) Now Woodrow, I'm going to remain on 
this farm indefinitely and we must do everything 
we can to make life easy for Mr. Smith. He came 
here to rest. 

WoODROw. (Drily) Did he? (Feels of his nose, 
tenderly) 

Jennie. Yes. He gets in a hurry sometimes — • 



84 WHAT'S WRONG. 

maybe you haven't noticed it yet — but be has a big" 
heart — and lie means welL 

WooDROW. (Caressing his nose) Yes'm. {Tilt- 
ing his face up somewhat) W^ill you see please if 
that there stinger's still in my nose? 

Jennie. Certainly. (As she looks for stinger) 
Woodrow, there is a great future ahead of you. 

WooDROw. (Deeply interested) Is there? 

Jennie. Most assuredly. (Quite gravely) With 
a nose like this, if you don't lose your health or go 
to college, you will succeed in everything vou under- 
take. 

Woodrow. Honestly? 

Jennie. Yes. But if you do go to college and 
lose your health, you'll probably wind up by being 
a playwright— or a critic. 

Woodrow. (Dead serious) Am T goin' to get 
married ? 

Jennie. Possibly. 

Woodrow. When ? 

Jennie. That depends — but basing my deduc- 
tions upon the shape and size of your nose I can 
say with a reasonable degree of accuracy that the 
marriage ceremony will not occur in the immediate 
future. 

Woodrow. (Disappointed) Shoot! 

(Smith appears at hay-loft door, stares at thcui a 
moment.) 

Smith. (Annoyed) Woodrow! 

Woodrow. (Nasally — Jennie is examining his 
nose) Yes. 

Smith. (As Jennie lets go of Woodrow's nose) 
Do you call that getting chickens into their coops? 

Woodrow. No, but can't a feller take time to 
have his fortune told? 

Smith. Not when he's working for me! Huny! 

Woodrow. (Meekly) Yes, sir. (Picks up bucket 



WHAT'S WRONG. 85 

iind hastens to fourth run-way gate. Smith dis- 
appears from hay-loft door and Jennie starts to- 
ward kitchen steps. At run-way gate Woodrow 
stops, glances at barn, then, confidentially at 
Jennie) Brown! 

Jennie. (Stopping and smiling at him) Yes. 

\^'ooDROW. What's yer first name? 

Jennie. Jennie. 

Woodrow. Thanks, Jennie. Gee, but you're 
■j)urty ! 

( E:\'it Woodrow, fourth run-way. He exits back- 
wards, smiling at Jennie and caressing his nose 
proudh. Re-enter Perry froin barn.) 

Perry. The world's champion time sa\ er'll be out 
here in a minute, so Fll have to talk fast. 

Jennie. (Drolly) Rut talk distinctly. This is the 
i^ood news, isn't it? 

Perry. Yes. We are moving to Seattle to- 
morrow and my wife wants you to come out there 
and live with us. 

Jennie. (Drily) In Seattle? 

PiTRRY. Yes. I can give you a good position as 
iny 

Jennie. That is very sweet of Mrs. Dodge, and 
you — and I know T would enjoy it but — (Pauses, 
then smiles and shakes head) No. It's out of the 
question. 

Perry. Why? You have no relatives in New 
|York. 

Jennie. No — but that isn't it. 

Pekkv. Don't you think you would he happy with 
us ? 

Jennie. I'm sure I would — but that isn't it. 

PivRRV. Then what is " it?" 

Jennie. Mr. Smith. 

'P|■l^M^^■. ( )h, that's all right. He's willing for you 
to go. 



H6 WHArS WRONG, '^i 

Jennie. He may act like it but he isn't. | 

Perry. Yes, he is. He has already consented, 

Jennie. Consented to what? 

Perry. To let you go with us. 

Jennie. (Drollx) Did Mr. Smith use the word « 

" let ? " ' : 

Perry. Practically, yes. ": 

Jennie. What was the provocation? I 

Perry. Why, I told him my wife wanted you to j 

come to Seattle with us and asked him if he was j 

willing, 

Jennie. And he said — ? , 

Perry. " Certainly! " He said: " Vm going out j 

of the land business into the chicken business. Take | 

her. I don't need her any longer." ; 

Jennie. {Slozifly — she is hurt but tries to conceal i 

// — ineffectually, however') Did Mr. Smith say that j 

he didn't need me any longer? Did he? i 

Perry. Yes. {After a slight pause) \ 

Jennie. {Satirically yet zvith a pathetic little '■ 

smile) He is very fond of his chickens, isn't he? 
Perry. {He is beginning to wonder if she is at- ] 

tached to Smith, confidentially) Say — do — do you i 

Uke him? \ 

Jennie. {Onietly and matter of fact -after a . 

slight pause) I feel sorry for him. i 

Perry. Was that why you volunteered to be his j 

stenographer ? 1 

Jennie. Yes. j 

Perry. And went to Argentine for him? j 

Jennie. Yes. ; 

Perry. And induced him to come over here : 

and I 



Jennie. {Drolly) Relax. 

Perry. Are you sure it isn't something more 
than just " feeling sorry" for him? 

Jennie. I want to help him, if that's what you 
mean. 

Perry. (Significantly) Why? 



WHAT'S WRONG. 87 

( Pause — J EN Ni K, thinking. ) 

fENNiE. {After a slight pause — quietly hut zvith 
smcerity) He's such a helpless creature. He mak js 
me think of father 

Perry. And so you want to help him. 

Jennie. Don't you? 

Perry. Yes, but do you think that you or any- 
one else can ever make George go slow? Honestly 
now — do you? 

[ennie. (Significantly — after short pause) Not 
if he doesn't want me to. (Starts up steps slowly) 

Perry. But even if he did want you to? 

Jennie. (Pausing at top of steps and glancing at 
Perry zvith a forced little smile. Her hand on door 
knob) Tell Mrs. Dodge that I will go. 

Perry. (As Jennie opens door) Good! Our 
train leaves the Pennsylvania Station eleven o'clock 
to-morrow morning. 

Jennie. Thank you. (/ zvill he there.) 

J^ERRY. (As Jennie is about to exit) Now^ if you 
would rather not go, Miss Jennie 

Jennie. But 1 want to go! I've always wanted 
to see the — (With a faint attempt at a smile) the 
l)etter half of America. 

Perry. (Pleased) That's the way to talk. The 
wonderful West — where nobody is in too much of a 
hurry to enjoy life. 

(Re-enter Smith from barn. He carries a crate, by 
its rope handles, in front of him. Upon this 
crate are stacked four more crates. As he 
enters, slowly and almost staggering under the 
load, all that can be seen of Smith from the 
front are his hands and the lower part of his 
legs. Perry glances at the crates, then at the 
legs. He cannot see Smith's body. The pile 
of crates begins to wabble someziihat and Smith 
stops to steady them so as to keep the top crates 



88 WHAT'S WRONG. 

from falling off. Jennie looks at Smith, 
shakes her head and exits into house. Enter 
" Heavy," " Red " and Bill — farm hands, l. 4 
E. They shamble in, lazily and sidlenly. 
" Heavy " is a he^vy set. pugnacious fellow, 
thirty years old. Has a four days' growth of 
beard and looks like a welter-zveight prize 
fighter. He wears old brown overalls— the kind 
truck-drivers wear — and an old black sateen 
shirt, and an old brozvn derby hat. ** Red " is 
tall, lean, homely, awkward, red-faced and red- 
headed. Same age as Heavy but taller. J V ears 
old blue overalls, a z'cry dirty white shirt with 
collar band but no collar, and an old small 
brimmed straw hat. Bell is a zviry, rat-like 
cuss, somewhat shorter than Heavy. Smooth- 
shaven and rather neat in appearance but mean, 
cynical, vicious and cozvardly. Has sharp 
features and a small shifty eye. Wears black 
trousers, glossy with age but rather clean; a 
black sateen shirt with soft collar and red tie, 
and a black mechanic's cap. Red and Bill 
watch Smith disgustedly but Heavy gazvks at 
Perry — doesn't take eyes off of him. Perry 
gazes curiously and somezvhat comically at the 
stock of wabbling crates — looks at r. then at l. 
of Sm[th, then to Smith — drolly.) 

Plrry. I can't see your face, George, but good- 
])ye just the same. (Starts toivards r. 4 e.) 

Smith. (Impetuously) Wait a minute. 

Perry. 1 can't. I've got to catch the noon train. 

Smith. (Mechanically. His mind is on the wab- 
bling crates which he is trying to balance) All 
rght. Success to you in Seattle and remember me 
to Marjorie. 

{ The crates topple fortvard and fall with a crash, 
barely missing Heavy Red and Bill. Smith 
sees them for the first time.) 



WHAT'S WRONG. 89 

Smith. Fill those with forty dozen broilers just 
as quick as you can ! 

Heavy. {With a /a^y grin and an aggravatliuj 
irresponsibility) All right. 

(Shambles toward run-way gates, Bill and Red fol- 
lowing lazily.) 

Perry. {Coming toward Smith to shake hands) 
Good-bye, George. 

(Heavy stops and gawks at Perry.) 

Smith. Good-bye. {Rushes to him, seizes his 
hand and shakes it rapidly as he leads him toward 
R. 4 E.) Safe journey — {Now at R. 4 e., and with 
real feeling) and God bless you I You're making a 
])ig mistake lea\ ing New York, but God bless you! 
{Shoves him and exit Perry, r. 4 e. Then quickly 
to the men) Hurry! (Rushes toward them) All 
you have to do is to take the chickens out of the 
coops and pack 'em in the crates. (Calls) Wood- 
row! (To men) Move! 

(Heavy stops and faces him.) 

Heavy. (Pugnaciously) Now wait a minute! 
We'll fill them crates, but we're goin' to take our 
time. 

Smith. Those chickens have got to take the three 
o'clock express ! 

Heavy. (As before) I said we'd fill 'em, but 
\\ c don't propose to get sun-struck doin' it. (To 
l\i-.i) and Rill) Eh, boys? 

.-MTK. All right! Just hurry! (Heavy 
shambles to third runway gate. Bill to second run- 
way gate and Red to first runway gate. As the 
men go to the gates, facing L. he shouts) Wood- 
row ! 



90 WHAT'S WRONG. 

W'ooDROw. (Lamly, off 1..) Yep! 
Smith. Come here! Quick! 

(Heavy, Bill and Red, meanwhile have picked up 
one crate apiece and are nozv entering the run- 
zvays, deliberately.) 

Smith. (Pretending to joke) Move, boys! For 
heaven's sake, move ! Just play there's a reward of 
$5000 for your capture and William J. Burns is 
only a block away. (The three men glance at him, 
simultaneously and resentfully) 

Heavy. (Eyeing Smith) Do you know this is 
th' hottest day in the year? 

Smith. I'll take your word for it, but 

(Jennie appears at the zvindozv. She has removed 
her jacket and her hat and looks very pretty 
and domestic.) 

Jennie. (Pleasantly^ from zvindow) Mr. Smith. 
(The Men look up at her) 

Smith. (Peevishly) Yes, yes 

Jennie. (Kindly but quite formally) How do 
you prefer your eggs? 

(Re-enter Woodrow, third runway, carrying the 
wheat bucket.) 

WooDROW. (Listlessly, as he enters) What 
d'you want? 

Smith. (7^0 Woodrow) What the thunder have 
you been doing — playing tiddly-winks? 

Jennie. Mr. Smith — your eggs. 

Smith. Scramble 'em — both sides — anyway. 
(Jennie zvithdraws from windozv) 

Woodrow. (Big-eyed — zvith surprise) Gee! Is 
she another cook ! 

Smith. No! Feed the squabs and get ready to 



W HAT'S WRONG. 91 

crate them, {llic Mi:^ who have eyed Jennie with 
curiosity, stand looking tozvards the window. 
Smith turns on them) Hurry! (Heavy grins and 
begins to whistle a popular song, lazily. Red and 
Bile begin to whistle it, too, and the three Men 
rxtt, off runzvays. Eyeing them, angrily) Well, 
I '11 be (Angrily ) Woodrow ! 

W uuDROvv. (Nozv at pigeon coop, r. of barn- 
door) Yep. 

Smith. {Hurrying tozvards him) Water the 
s(|uabs ! 

WooDRuw. You just said 

Smith. Quick! (Begins throwing wheat into 
pigeon coop as W'oodrow runs off Ti. 4.) 

( Many squabs come from inside tJie barn to feed. 
The coop is soon filled zvith pigeons and squabs. 
Re-enter " Heavy," third runway.) 

Smith. (From doorway, to Heavy) I thought 
1 told you to crate those broilers ! 

Hfavv. (Sullenly) You did, but I got-a-get a 
sack to carry 'em from the coops to th' crates. 

Smith. (Impatiently) Crate them in the coops. 

Heavy. All right! Rut it'll take twice as long. 
{Re-enters ninzvay) 

Smith. It won't if you hurry. (Heavy stops 
and looks at Smith, now at third runway gate. 
E.rasperated) Now what's the matter? 

Heavy. {Pugnaciously and coming toward 
Smith) I'm not goin'-a do a day's work in ten 
minutes. See? (He is 'now face to face with 
.Smith ) You've been working Hell out of us! 

Smith. You haven't worked any harder than 
1 have ! 

Heavn. That's your fault, — not ours. 

Smith. (Angrily) How much do I owe you? 

Hea\y. Twentv-four dollars. 



92 WHAT'S WRONG. 

(Smith jerks pocket book from overalls and jerks 
hills from pocket book, counts them rapidly.) 

Smith. {Shoving bills at Heavy) Twenty- 
four! (Heavy grins and takes money) Now you 
get off this farm the quickest you ever did anythino^ 
in your life! (Re-enter Bill, in 2nd riin-zvay) 

Heavy. (Flippantly, as he folds up bills, de- 
liberately) I got you, Steve! (Starts towards k. 

4 E.) " ' 

Bill. (Coming through runway gate) Quittin', 
Heavy? (Heavy stops) 

Smith. (Emphatically, to Bill) What do you 
want? (Bill ignores Smith as he sees Heavy start 
toward r. 4 e. ) 

Bill. Quittin'? 

Heavy. (Grinning, over shoulder, hut not stop- 
ping) Tired. 

Bill. Wait an' I'll go with you. 

Smith. You will not. (Bill glares at Smith. 
''Heavy'' stops) 

Bill. (Viciously) Give me my money and give 
it quick. 

Smith. (Kindly — trying to reason 7vith him) 
Now look here, Bill 

Bill. All I want out of you is my money. 
(Shoves out his hand, palm up. Smith jerks pocket 
book from pocket and begins to take bills from it) 

Heavy. (Hands to mouth, like megaphone — 
loudly, toward first run7vay) Red! Oh, Red! 

Smith. Stop that! 

Heavy. (Pugnaciously insolent) You ain't th' 
guy that can make me stop it! (Calling as before) 
Come on, Red ! 

Smith. (Shoving money at Bill) Here's your 
pay! Now get! Both of you! (Gives Bill a 
shove toward R. 4 e. ) 

Heavy. (Szvaggering slozvly but viciously, to- 



WHAT'S WRONG. 93 

ward Smith — fists clenched — to Bill) Shall I 
bust his jaw? 

( Enter Red. first run-way.) 

Red. What's th' matter? 

Smith. Nothing! These fellows got fresh and 
I fired them, but if you'll stay I'll double your 
wages and — {He is nmv face to face with Red, tvho 
stands in gateway) 

Red. (Insolently) I ain't talkin' to you. 
f Brushes him aside and starts towards Heavy and 
Rill) What's th' matter, boys? 

Smith. (Persiiasii'ely) Now look here. Red — 
I've always done the right thing by you, haven't I? 
Stay and help me out. I need you! I've got all 
this trouble with the boys — and there's a woman 
threatening to send the Sheriff here to arrest me 
because I didn't tie a calf to suit her. (Woodrow^ 
enters r. 4, hic/(/ing a big bucket of water) Wood- 
row : would you know the Sheriff if you saw him? 

WooD^ow. Sure. He's Heavy's big brother. 
{ Puts bucket in front of r. pigeon coop and goes in- 
to barn) 

Smith. (He sees his finish) Oh! — (The grin 
on He.av^-'s face bodes Smith no good. All the 
^Ien eye each other — enjoying it. To Red) If 
you'll stay 

\\K\). (Briefly) Nothing doin' ! I quit. 

Smith. \\'ell, if that's the kind of man you are, 
goon! (ioon! (fin raged — /o Red) What're you 
waiting for? 

Red. (Calmly) Two weeks' wages. (Smith 
jerks out pocket book and opens if. ft is empty) 

Smith. Come around to-morrow. 

Red. 1 want it now. 

Smith. I haven't got it. 

Red. Get it. (Smith runs to kitchen window) 

Smith. [At zvindow) Miss Brown! Miss 
]^)rown ! 



94 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Jennie. {From within the house) Yes? 

Smith. Fetch my check book — coat pocket. 

Red. (Sullenly) I don't want no check — I wanf 
the cash. 

Smith. (Going toward him) I tell you I haven't 
the cash. 

Jennie. (Appears at the window. Pleasantly) 
How much cash do you need, Mr. Smith? 

Smith. (All business, no sentiment) Twenty- 
four dollars. Have you got it? 

Jennie. No, but I can give you my check. 

Red. {Tipping his hat to Jennie with admira- 
tion) All right, Miss, I'll take your check. 

Jennie. (Sweetly) Thank you. (Withdraws 
from the window) 

Smith. (Sees the men grinning — savagely) Grin, 
damn you! (He rolls up his shirt sleeves) I'll 
show you how to work ! I'll crate every chicken 
myself ! 

Heavy. Hop to it, old cock ! 

(Smith dashes to second run-way gate, seiaes a 
crate, dashes through gate and runs off. As he 
exits Jennie reappears at windozv, check hook 
and fountain pen in hand. She opens the check 
book, places it on windozv sill. ) 

Jennie. (Pleasantly, to Red) Did Mr. Smith 
say twenty-four dollars? 

Red. (Humbly) Yes, ma'am. (Removes hat 
awkardly — all remove hats) 

Jennie. (Dates the check) Your name, please? 

Red. (Almost meekly) Morgan. 

Jennie. (As she ivrites name in check) Initials? 

Red. J. R 

Jennie. Thank you. (She writes the amount, 
then tears check from book. Red, who has been go- 
ing toivard her slowly, is now near the window and 
extends hand for check. Jennie gives it to him) 

Red. Thank you, ma'am. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 95 

JenniI'.. Yon are welcome, Mr. Morgan. {She 
zvith draws from the wii!do7v) 

(The Men glance at each other, then at the zvindow, 
then they begin to primp, as if intent upon mak- 
ing the best impression possible. They brush 
the dust off their clothes, then remove their 
hats and .clean them carefully with their sleeves. 
WooDROW, entering from barn zvith big dipper 
in hand, sees the farm hands, takes off his oivn 
hat, shoves handle of dipper in his hip pocket, 
and begins to wipe his hat importantiy. \yooD- 
Row joins them importantly, the dipper in his 
hip pocket sticks up like the tail of a fighting 
cock.) 

Heavy. {Admiringly, as he glances at window) 
Some pullet 1 (Then, to Bile) Eh, boh? 

Bill. ( Agreeing heartily) Hell, yes! 

Red. H'I had a girl like that to cook eggs for 
nie I'd be willin' to eat cuckoo eggs. Eat 'em raw. 

WooDROW. (Proudly) I'm goin' to marry her 
some day! Gee, but she's purtyl (Going to wnn- 
dow and tries to peek in) 

Heavy. (Who has been keeping a close eye on 
house) Ctit it! Here she comes. (Everybody be- 
gins to primp) 

{ Re-enter Jennie from house. She comes down the 
steps and towards Men.) 

I EN NIE. Will you gentlemen please do me a little 

favor? • i n-1 

The Men. (Simultaneously) Sure! (They 

face her) 

[ennie. (Glances off l., then goes to the men. 
Somewhat confidential) When you leave, don't go 

far away. 

Heavy. (Not understanding) Come agam ! 



96 WHAT'S WRONG, 

Jennie. When you gentlemen leave, please don^t 
go far away. {Smiling at them) I may need you. 

Red. {Reassuringly, as she hands him the check) 
li you do, call me. 

Bill. Sure 1 ITe won't let him hart you. 

Jennie. Oh, I'm not afraid of his hurting me 
but if you men were within call 

Heavy. Excuse me, Miss, but you ain't his 
sister? 

Jennie. No! 

Red. Nor his cousin? 

Jennie. No! 

Heavy. [IViseiy) We git you! {Starts to- 
zvards r. 4) Come on, boys! (Red and Bill fol- 
low Heavy to r. 4) 

WooDRow. I'll be right there waterin' the squabs 
— {Pointing) If you need me — {Is interrupted by 
Heavy) 

Heavy. {At r. 4. Confidentially to Jennie) 
We'll be hangin' out on th' shady side o' th' house, 
Miss. If that guy gets fresh wath you, scream. 
M^e'll do th' rest. 

Jennie. {Pleasantly) Thank you. 

Heavy. {Gruffly, though meaning to be polite) 
Don't mention it. It'll be a pleasure. 

Smith. {Off u) Open the gate! 

(Heavy starts pugilisticfiliy towards gate. ) 

Jennie. Don't. {He stops) I'll open it. {In- 
dicating K. 4) If I need you, I'll call. 

Heavy. Don't call— scream. That's all — jus' 
scream. 

Jennie. All right — listen. 

{Exit Bill. Red and Heavy, r. 4 e. Woodrow goes 
to water bucket. Jennie meanzvhile, hastens 
to second runzvay gate. As she opens the 
gate — ) 



WHAT'S WRONG. 97 

Smith. (I'cry loudly and very angrily— im- 
mediately off) Open that gate. 

Jennie. It is open. (Many frightened chickens- 
squawk immediately off l. Enter Smith, second 
run-zvay, hopping backzvards and dragging in front 
of himself a crate filled with squawking chickens 
At run-way gate, he pauses to breathe. As he pauses 
at the run-way gate) Can't I help you? (Smith 
yanks the crate through the gate and drops end 
noisily) 

Smith. {So busy that he doesn't know what he 
IS saying) Yes— nail down that cover— (Indicating 
lid of crate) and put on a shipping tag! (Then 
loudly) Wood row! 

WooDmw. (Who is about to pour zvater in 
pigeon coop trough) Yep! 

Smith. Hitch up the horse. While I pack the 
crates you and Miss Brown can load 'em into the 
wagon. Hurry ! 

WooDRow. All right. ( Tosses dipper into bucket 
and hastens toward l. 4) 

^ Smith. (Exit Woodrow, l. 4, at full speed. 
Smith dashes dozvn to second runzvay and seizes 
an empty crate) 

Jennie. (On her mettle) Be reasonable, Mr. 
Smith — (Smith slings a crate on his shoulder and 
is about to enter run-way) You can't crate forty 
dozen chickens alone before three o'clock! Call 
back your men! (Smith drops the crate) 

Smith. (Emphatically) I'm running this farm, 
Miss Brown. 

Jennie. (With a pathetic little smile) I beg 
your pardon. 

Woodrow. (Immediately off rear and greatly 
frightened) Mr. Smith ! Mr. Smith ! (Woodrow 
rushes in, l. 4 e. ) Oh ! Mr. Smith ! 
Smith. What is it? 

Woodrow. (Breathless with excitement) She 

she's dead! 



gg WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. {Quickly) Who? 
WooDROW. Rosebud ! 
JENNIE. Who? 
WooDROW. Rosebud— the calf! 

(Smith rushes off l. 4 f^- Woodrow ro^-rr.^ eyes 
unth arm, to, hide the tears.) 

Tennif {Sympathetically, as she goes up to 
WOODROW who' is near l. 4 e-) ^^on't cry. (/ ats 
him gently on shoulder) 

W^ooDROW. {Rubbing eyes with fists You d 
cry, too, if you'd knew her as long as I did. {Blub^ 
ber^ The calf blats loudly and prolongedly, ojf 
stacie WooDROW stops crying instantly and stares 
aUENNiE He thinks it is the calfs ghost umlmg 
. and he is 'dumb zvith terror. Woodrow horrified ) 
Do— do calfs have ghosts.^ 

{Re-enter Smith, l. 4 e.) 

Jennie. {To Smith) What was the matter 

"^'smith It got loose awhile ago and in my haste 
to tie it so that it couldn't get away agam, 1 tied a 
slip-noose instead of a hard knot. 

Jennie. Oh! The poor little thing. 

Smith She's all right now I turned her loose. 
(The telephone rings. He dashes to barn and series 
\elephonl In telephone) Hello !- Wb at ?-DonJ 
let it occur again ! {Rushing down to c^ate) Ca^^ed 
by mistake! This kind of a day ! ^^h'. \\^h. 
{Goes to bucket and drinks eagerly. Exit Wood- 

''jENNiK Really now, Mr. Smith-I wouldn't 
drink so much 

mc untcs his arm across his face to nih' "ffj^' 
sweat, then rushes down seizes crate, throws! 






WHAT'S WRONG. 99 

it on shoulder and starts towards 2nd run- 
way gate. Jennie shakes her head hopelessly 
and starts toward the house. Arrived at gate, 
Smith halts, begins to sway unsteadily back. 
As Jennie glances back. Smith sinks limply to 
the ground.) 

Jennie. {Rushing to him) Mr. Smith! (Kneel- 
ing beside him) Mr. Smith! (Calling) Wood- 
row! \Voodrow ! Woodrow ! (She raises him to 
sitting posture. Enter Woodrow, l. 4 e.) Water! 
Get some water! (Woodrow dashes up to pail and 
lugs it to Jennie. She pours some over her hand- 
kerchief and lays it on Smith's forehead. Presently 
Smith opens his eyes and gazes around as if dazed) 

Smith. Wliat happened ? 

Jennie. Sun stroke. 

Smith. Where am I ? 

[ennie. This time you are here — on your farm 
— {To Woodrow) Pull the crate around for him 
to lean against. (W^oodrow pulls the crate around) 
Now get his hat. (Woodrow obeys quickly, zvhile 
Jennie makes Smith comfortable against crate) 
Bring my parasol— in the kitchen — please. (Wood- 
row dashes up steps into house. Jennie seats her- 
self on top of the crate against zvhich Smith is lean- 
ing. She is on r. side of him. He is seated on the 
ground. Jennie dampens the handkerchief again. 
As Jennie places handkerchief gently on Smith's 
forehead Smith listlessly and as if puzzled, con- 
fused ) 

Smith. What time is it? 

Jennie. Time to rest. 

Smith. (After a slight pause) Is it too late to 
get the broilers off on the three o'clock? 

Jennie. (Trying to quiet him) No. (Wood- 
row re-enters and hastily hands her the parasol) 
There! (She puts it over Smith) Woodrow, will 
you please boil the tea kettle and get some ice. (Exit 



loo WHAT'S WRONG. 

WooDROW, Speedily into house. She turns to 
Smith) Stay just where you are, 77/ get the 
broilers off — (She screams. The scream is so forced 
and artificial that it is ludicrous. She sits perfectly 
quiet. Screaming loudly) O! O! O! O! O! O! 
Smith. (Rising — frightened — solicitous but 
somewhat wobbly) What's the matter? Are you 
sunstruck, too ? 

(As Jennie rises — Heavy, Red and Rill rush in 
R. 4. They start tozvard Smith threateningly. 
Heavy ahead of Red and Bill. Woodrow 
pokes his head out of window.) 

Heavy. {To Jennie, as if he tvere a big brother 
defending a little sister who had been shamefully 
zvronged) Did that guy get fresh with you? 

Jennie. No. 

Heavy. Then what'd you scream for? 

Jennie. Because I needed you. 

Red. (Eyeing Smith) Then he did get fresh 
with you ! 

Jennie. No honestly he didn't. I called you men 
because Mr. Smith has been overcome by the heat. 
(The Men glance unsympathetically at Mr. Smith, 
as if the thought he had gotten zvhat zvas coming to 
him. Woodrow, conzinccd that Jennie is safe, 
withdrazvs from zvindozv) I knew that you would 
be kind enough to help ME pack his broilers for 
him. (The Men glance at Jknnik as if they were 
not willing to pack them) 

Bill. Not much ! 

Jennie. You can pack them any way you like 
and take all the time you want; hut— (Tact f idly) 
if you do get them off on the three o'clock, I shall be 
very grateful — and Mr. Smith will double your 
wages for the day. AA'on't you gentlemen please 
help him^ 



Bill. (Turning azvay — about to leaz'c) A 
ENNiE. Mr. Heavy: won't you? 



WHAT'S WRONG. lov 

Heavy. (All for Jennie — to Bill) Go in th' 
barn, an' get three gunny sacks. Red an' TH go on 
to th' chicken coops. If you don't come out there 
quick, I'll kill you. Git me? 

(Bill looks at hrm for a moment and sees that 
Heavy means business.) 

Bill. (Meekly) Well, you don't have to get 
sore about it. (Turns on heel and goes lastly to- 
ward barn door) 

Heavy. (Emphatically) Hurry! (Bill walks 
rapidly to barn, into it and exits r. ) Come on, Red. 
(Red starts towards rnnways) 

Jennie. Thank you, Mr. Heavy, T had no idea 
your brother was the Sheriff! I'd like to meet him. 
Will vou introduce me? 

Heavy. (On to her — qood-natnredl\) Never 
mind— r// fix Ed ! 

Smith. Now for heaven's sake — (He is about 
to say " Hurry ") 

Heavy. (Emphaticalh' to S^uth) She's bossin' 
this job now. You keep out of it. Git me? 

Smith. ( A rgum entatii'ely) Now you listen^ — • — 

(Jennie pushes Smith back gently with her arm 
and steps between him and Heavy. Then to 
Heavy. ) 

Jennie. He gets you. (Jennie continues to 
smile at Heavy. Heavy gases at her, admiringly. 
Rc-eutcr Bill, from barn. He has three large 
gunny-sacks) 

Heavy. (Emphatically, to Bill) Hurry! 

(Bill runs dozen to Heavy aJid Red, ivho grab a 
sack a piece. They exeunt — Heavy to first 
run-zvay gate, Red to second and Bill to third. 
There each grab a crate and run off, down run- 
way. ) 



i02 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Jennte. (Smiling triumphantly, yet modestly, to 
^mith) See! Men will do anything for you so 
long as you don't drive them. {For the first time 
Smith realizes ivhat a zvonderful little zvoman she 
really is and hozv much she means to him and has 
meant to him all along. Woodrow has brought a 
tin pan zvitli some pieces of ice in it. Jennie has 
taken a piece — ivrapped it in her handkerchief. 
Exit W'ooDRow- into kitchen. Jennie nozv holds 
the ice to Smith's head) There! (Smith puts his 
hand up and takes it. Pressing it to his forehead) 
How do you feel now ? 

Smith. (Disgusted with himself) I feel like 
a fool. I am a fool, too — Everything I do I overdo. 

Jennie. You talk as if that were a crime. 

Smith. It is. 

Jennie. Pardon the contradiction but you are 
mistaken. vSit down — {He sits on crate) You are 
much mistaken. Keep the ice on your forehead. 
{He replaces ice. She picks up the parasol and 
shades them both, as she sits beside him on crate) 
Mr. Smith : you're suffering from the great Ameri- 
can habit — and you've got to call a halt. You've 
joined the procession — the procession of bad busy 
boys who rush through life sacrificing everything 
to succeed and always , measuring success not by 
friends and happiness— but by the dollar. This isn't 
Sunday and T don't want you to think I'm preaching 
a sermon ; but once these boys set their eyes upon a 
goal, they cannot even smile until that goal is 
reached. And when they do reach ii^ — after all their 
sacrifice, they usually find it is little more than 
trash — You, for instance, tried to make a huge 
fortune in a few years. Not because you needed 
it but because making a fortune meant '' making 
good." Incidentally, in trying to swell that fortune 
you hurried and worried. You wouldn't eat and you 
couldn't sleep. Then you came over to Jersey to 
rest and recuperate. {With a smile) Did you rest? 



WHAT'S WRONG. 103 

When you first came to this farm two months ago 
it was as quiet and peaceful as a New England 
spinister reading the Boston Transcript. Now look 
at it. (At this moment the chickens and squabs are 
heard from) Listen! (As the disturbance dies 
down) Does that sound like Boston? You had to 
be doing something. On the move all the time! 
Anything but relaxation. Result, in your effort to 
supply the whole earth with squabs and broilers 
and make another fortune, you neglected yourself, 
failed to read my letters, forgot to answer them, lost 
your temper, discharged your cooks, fired your men. 
were overcome by the heat, and here you are — 
tottering between a sanitarium and the grave — with 
a lump of ice on your head and nothing on your 
stomach — Hurry and Worry — That is the great 
American habit. And it is you! (Drolly) Have T 
made your head-ache worse? 

Smith. Yes, but you have my number, all right. 

JENNii:. Don't feel lonesome. You have lots 
of company. There are thousands just like you, 
(Offers Smith dipper of water) Here! Have a 
little water — (Drolly, as he sips water from dipper) 
You probablv need it — after my Chatauqua lecture. 

Smith. Thanks. Is there any cure for me? 

If.nnie. Yes. 

Smith. What? 

JENNIE. (Replacing dipper) It is very simple. 

Smith . Cremation ? 

JENNIE. No. 

Smith. (Insistent on knozving) What? 

Jennie. I would rather not say. (Jennie takes 
out her zvatch and glances at it. The glance becomes 
a gaze,' a sad, sweet gaze. She realizes that she 
must return to the village shortly and that zvhen she 
says good-bye to Smith this time it zvill probably 
be good-bye for alzcays. She loves Smith and her 
face shozvs it. She zvants to stay right where she is 
and takes care of him, but he has said that he no 



104 WHAT'S WRONG. 

longer needs her. So there is nothing for her to do 
but go. As she replaces watch, she rises and starts 
toward the kitchen steps) 

Smith. Where are you going? 

Jennik. (Pleasantly but quite business like and 
without stopping or looking at him) To finish 
(scrambHng) your eggs. 

Smith. (Rising) T don't want eggs. T want 
you. 

{ WooDRovv pokes his head out of the windotv.) 

WooDRow. (Proudly) The water's beginnin' to 
boil. 

Jennik. All right. Watch it. Don't take your 
eyes off it. It might burn. 

WooDROvv. Yes, ma'am. (Exit Woodrow from 
window) 

Smith. Miss Brown — — 

Jennie. Yes? 

Smith. A while ago T asked you what would 
cure me? 

Jennie. Yes, I remember. 

Smith. You can do it. Won't you marry me? 
I need a wife and a home. 

Jennie. ( Very seriously and as if it were strictly 
a business proposition) I agree with you, — but I 
leave to-morrow for Seattle. 

Smith. (Surprised and puzzled) Seattle? 

Jennie. Yes — the metropolis of Puget Sound. 

Smith. What're you going way out there for? 

Jennie. (As before) To live. I will leave the 
Argentine contracts in the house. I arranged every- 
thing according to your cables. (Starts toward 
kitchen steps) 

Smith. Say I don't want you to go to Seattle. 

(Jennie pauses.) 
[ennie. (Lightly but with a sweet but sad little 



WHAT'S WRONG. 105 

smile) Why should it make any difference to you? 
You don't need me any longer. 

Smith. Who said I didn't need you? 

Jennie. You did. You offered me to the 
Dodges — as though I were a pound of tea — or a 
nutmeg — or an umbrella that you'd borrowed during 
a rain storm and the storm being over, you don't 
need it any longer. " Take her," you said — " I don't 
need her any longer." 

Smith. (Dumbfounded) I ? (Then recol- 
lecting) By thunder! — 

Jennie. You did say it, didn't you? 

Smith. Yes, but — listen 

Jennie. (With a note of finality) It is too late 
for an explanation, Mr. Smith — and besides your 
eggs are scrambling. (Starts towards steps) 

Smith. Miss Brown, I love you. 

Jennie. (Pausing and shaking her head) No, 
Mr. Smith: there's only one girl that you have 
time to love — that's the girl on the American dollar. 

Smith. Are you going? 

Jennie. To-morrow morning. (She then goes 
deliberately to steps. Smith watches her — disap- 
pointed. He then crosses slowly to crate filled with 
chickens, which he looks at idly. He does not at- 
tempt to work. Jennie about to ascend steps, looks 
at Smith. Her impulse is to rush to him and com- 
fort him. Then she ascends steps slowly. He, 
meanwhile has been gasina dejectedly at the crated 
chickens when Jennie reaches door, she glances at 
.Smith, then opens the screen door slowly. When it 
is open, Smith faces her) 

Smith. Jennie! (Jennie is silent) Jennie! 

Jennie. I came here on business. For that rea- 
son if you wish to discuss matters other than busi- 
ness, it will have to be after business hours and 
where I live. 

Smith. (Crosses to the steps thoughtfully. He 
now stands at lower step) If I — If I quit the 



io6 WHAT'S WRONG. 

poultry business— would — you — through pity — if I 
stayed in the land business — where I was when I 

met you first — would you 

Jennie. Whatever you do or in whatever busi- 
ness you may engage, Mr. Smith, T wish you much 
prosperity. 

(Red comes through the run-way gate— carrying a 
crate filled zvith chickens which he places on 
the ground.) 

Red. (Ignoring Smith) How many'd you want 
to ship. Miss? 

Jennie. Forty dozen. 

Smith. (Weakly but still in a hurry) And for 
heaven's sake hur 

Jennie. (Cutting him off before he can say 
''hurry'' and speaking very gently) Take your 
time, Mr. Morgan. Take your time. 

Red. (Grinning at Jennie, admiringly — touch- 
ing his cap) Yes, ma'am. (Picks up two empty, 
crates and exits on the run. Smith looks from Jen- 
nie to Red — in zvonder) 

Jennie. Mr. Smith, when I am gone I don't want 
you to think of me as a cross between a country 
doctor and a village preacher, but may I suggest 
that whenever you feel like saying '* Hurry " you 
say " Take your time." (Looks at watch) In ten 
minutes please come in for breakfast — then I shall 
have to say (Trying to conceal the effort) good-bye. 

Smith. Please — one moment. Jennie, did you 
ever stop to think why I came over here? 

Jennie. Yes, Mr. Smith — to preserve your bait. 

Smith. But — why did I come here to preserve 
it? Don't call me Mr. Smith. 

Jennie. Because this was an ideal place. Don't 
call me Jennie. 

Smith. Who made it ideal? My nariie is 
George. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 107 

J EN N jr. Nature, Mr. Smith. 

Smith. {Idealistic ally) You! This is just an 
old, worn-out farm but when you described it to me 
that day in my office it seemed to be a paradise. 
You brought me over here to see it and it was a 
paradise. Then you went to South America and it 
became a poultry plant. To-day it seems like para- 
dise again. Jennie Brown, there is something about 
you that affects me ! 

Ten N IE. Where? 

SxMiTH. All over. 

I EN N IE. How — chills or fever? 

Smith. I don't know, but when Tm with you, 
I'm not the same man, I'm entirely different. 

Jennie. Then perhaps it is an act of Providence 
that is taking me to Seattle. (Starts tozvards steps) 

Smith. (IVith feeling) Don't go, Jennie! 
You aren't going to leave me now, are you — right 
when T need you and want you and love you ! 
You've brought such wonderful happiness into my 
life. You will stay, won't you? Won't you? 
Please I 

JENNIE. {Goes towards the crate — One is in 
doubt as to zvhether she tvill take him or not) Mr. 
Smith, I 

Smith. Won't you marry me? Won't you.'' 
Won't you? 

(Jennie still hesitates. She can't quite forget his 
zvillingness to let her go to Seattle.) 

Jennie. But you said 

Smith. That was before I knew I loved you. 
You will marry me, won't you? (As Jennie stands 
h\ his side, he draws her to the crate beside him. 
fhcy arc both seated) Won't you? 

([ennie's lips move toward Smith — instantly he 
raises his arms as if to crush her in his arms. 



io8 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Her lips halt. Then Smith lowers his arms. 
Again Jennie's lips start slozvly toward Smith. 
zvhereupon Smith_, impatient to kiss l.er, makes 
a peck at her lips, like a hungry chicken peck- 
ing at an apple, but Jennie is too quick for 
him.) 
Jennie. {Rebuking him, playfully se-vere) Tc! 
Tc! {Slight pause, then his lips start slozvly to- 
zvard hers. She watches them a moment, then, 
drolly, as she places her ozvn lips on a line with 
Smith's) Take your time, George. Take your 
time, {Just as his lips are about to touch hers, he 
hastens a bit) Don't hurry. {Their lips meet. As 
the curtain is falling a cockerel in the crate crozvs 
lustily) 

CURTAIN. 

ACT in. 

The Scene : — The liznug room of the Smith bunga- 
lozv in a Nezv York suburb. A Spring after- 
noon, tzvo years later. 

It is a restful, co::ily furnished room with ex- 
posed beams, and a stone fireplace, l. 2. There 
are three entrances : a door, somewhat above 
center of right zvall, leading into vestibule of 
front veranda; another door, somewhat above 
center of left zvall, leading into bed-room; and 
an archzvay, center of rear zvall, through zvhich 
can be seen the dining-room zvith a linen- 
covered table, center, neatly draped windozvs 
in its rear wall. This archzvay is provided zvith 
folding doors. Belozv center of right wall is a 
bay zvindow zvith window seat. 
L. c, a circular fable. Upon it an electric read- 
ing lamp zvith green shade, l. of table, a large 
easy -chair, r. of table, a rocking chair. 
Right, against zvall and aboz>e zvindozv-seat, a 



WHAT'S WRONG. 109 

felephone-stand with telephone and chair beside 
it. Between this stand and the door is a baby- 
grand piano. 

Left, against zvall, a bookcase. There is a 
cuckoo clock above the archzvay. A small zvood 
fire burns in the fireplace. Above fireplace, a 
wicker wood-basket, filled with small logs. Be- 
lozv fireplace a foot-stool. On the mantel, 
among other things, is a photograph of Perry 
Dodge taken shortly before he zvent to Seattle, 
izvo years ago. 

There are several z'oses of wild flozvers in the 
room. 

It rs late afternoon in spring and through the 
zvindows can be seen the green lazun surrounded 
by a neatly trimmed hedge. In the hedge, are 
silver maple trees. The house is located on 
Maplehurst Road, and is about one half mile 
from its nearest neighbor, a large country house 
built on old English lines, and surrounded by 
trees. It can be seen through the dining-room 
zvindows. 
At Rise: — Jennie is at the 'phone zvearing a pretty 
house dress. She is listening as a tradesman 
repeats an order on the 'phone after her. 

Jennie. Have you got that down? Yes? — and 
six cakes of sapolio, two balls of bluing, one package 
of gelatine — yes Cox's — a tin of Kip])ered lierring, 
and a dozen boxes of matches. For Mrs. George 
.Smith, Maplehurst Road. Be careful that you have 
the right Smith. — Good-bye. (Puts telephone in 
receiver — calls into dining-room to Tillte zvho is 
setting the table. Tillie is a neat little country 
maid) Tillie! Did my jelly jell? 

Tillie. No Mo'm. Cook says she's afraid your 
jelly never will jell. 

Jennie. Very well, then we'll use it for pud- 
dine sauce. Mr. Smith likes sweet sauces on his 



'tio WHAT'S WRONG. 

pudding'. (The cuckoo clock cukoos five. Jenntic 
looks at it) Hm ! He ought to be here now ! 

TiLLiE, (As she sets', the fable) Maybe he missed 
his train. 

Jennie. He never misses it. The train is prob- 
ably late. Don't use the plated silver to-night, 
Tillie. Put on the wedding silver. 

TiLLiE. Yes Mom. 

Jennie. And set the table for four — we are go- 
ing to have compan}'. (She closes the dining-room 
doors. Agnes, a sweet-faced, sensible nurse of 
twenty-eight — capped, aproned and carrying an 
empty nursing bottle in a nickel-plated frame, ap- 
pears at the bed-room door) Agnes, I want our 
baby to show of¥ to-night. Is she asleep? 

Agnes. Yes, Mrs. Smith. 

Jennie. {Giving a fezv finishing touches to the 
room) Some old friends from Seattle are going to 
be here and I want baby to make a good impression. 

Agnes. { Smiling reassuringly) She will. She 
is having a nice long nap. Your friends know you 
have a baby, don't they ? 

Jennie. Oh, yes — at least they should. We sent 
them one of the baby's cards, but they never answer 
a letter. (As Agnes goes toivards folding doors) 
\i you're going out for a fresh bottle, Agnes, please 
tell cook I want to see her. 

Agnes. Yes, Mrs. Smith. {Exit Agnes) 

(Ji>:nnie glances at clock again, then goes to table 
and picks up a baby's cap from table — sits in 
the rocking chair, and sezvs on a tie ribbon. 
The sun is now setting. Slowly the grey 
shadows of evening steal across the landscape — 
seen through the windows — and during the fol- 
lowing scene the room becomes gradually 
darkened. Enter Phoebe Snow, from dining 
room. She is as fat as ever but is now dressed 



WHAT'S WRONG. 1 1 ;i 

hi a clean kitchen dress and is fairly beaming— 
the ideal cook.) 

Phoebe. Yassam? 

Jennie. (As she looks up from her seicing) 1 
liave good news for you, Phoebe. 

Phoebe. Yassam. 

Jennie. We are going" to have unexpected guests 
to dinner. 

Pho]':be. (Smiling) Yassam. Hovv many? 

Jennie. Two. You remember Mr. Dodge, don^t 
you? (Phoebe's blank expression shozvs she 
doesnt) He was at the farm the day you refused 
to cook for the sick chicken. 

Phoebe. De stout gen'leman? 

Jennie. Yes — I've just had a telegram from Mrs. 
Dodge saying they arrived in New York to-day and 
will be here this evening. 

Phoebe. (Smiling) Yassam. 

Jennie. You have dinner enough to go round, 
FMioebe, but some little extra dessert might 

Phoebe. Yassam. What is their favorite 
dessert ? 

Jennie. Oh, anything sim])le. They're not at all 
fastidious. 

Phoebe. (Blankly — doesn't know "fastidious") 
Yassam. (Inspired — radiant at thought of it) You 
know, I'd just like to set dat dinnah back and have 
somepin downright speshul. 

Jennie. Have anything you want, Phoebe, ex- 
cept chicken. 

Phoebe. (Crestfallen but polite) Yassam, but if 
1 can't cook chicken, Mrs. Smith, I can't do my- 
se'f justice. Fo' chicken it takes Phoebe Snow ! 

Jennie. (Sympathetically) I know it, Phoebe, 
1uit Mr. Smith can't eat chicken any more. He 
says it's almost like eating an old friend. (Smil- 
ing) You understand. 



112 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Phoebe. Yassam, I understand — if he means 
dem croupy chickens hke he used to raise. 

Jennie, {Kindly hut emphatic — in defense of her 
husband) I beg your pardon, Phoebe — Mr. Smith's- 
chickens were milk- fed thorobreds. 

Phoebe. Yassam, but do you remember dat time 
I quit him on de chicken farm and you sent fo' me 
to come back and I didn't turn up fo' three days? 
(Jennie nods) I was sufferin' — O Golly! How 
I was sufferin' 

Jennie. What was the trouble? 

Phoebe. I ate one of dem chickens — an' I 
thought I would die ! Yassam ! Fve had headaches 
an' toothaches an' rheumatiz an' perrtnitiss 
(Peritonitis) but of all de sick niggers! I said to 
m'self — " Phoebe Snow, if you evah git out o' dis 
alive, don't you evah speak to anoder chicken as 
long as you live. No, suh ! " An' I hasn't ! Yas- 
sam. {Shaking her head rue f idly) Mistah Smith 
certainly had one fierce chickens on dat farm. 
(Starts off) 

Jennie. (Remembering) Oh, Phoebe. (Phoebe 
stops) Mr. Smith doesn't know the Dodges are 
coming. We'll surprise him. 

Phoebe. (Smiling) Yassam! (Goes off) 

Jennie. (Lights the lamp, glances at the clock, 
then goes to bedroom door, opens it softly and 
listens — then leaving the door ajar — she turns to 
Agnes ivho re-enters with a fresh milk bottle in the 
holder. Jennie puts her hand to the bottle) 
That's just right — not too warm ! (As Agne.s 
passes into the bedroom, and out of sight, Jennie 
speaks to her in a hushed voice) Agnes! will you 
kindly go into my room and bring out Mr. Smith's 
jacket and slippers? (Jennie goes to the zmndozv 
and looks out — glances at the clock again. Agnes 
appears at the door with smoking jacket and a pair 
of house slippers — Jennie takes them — nodding 
thanks. Agnes goes off and closes the door quietly. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 113 

Jennie sets the slippers down by the fire and lays 
the jacket across the back of his chair, glances at 
clock again, surveys room to see if everything is 
satisfactory, goes to piano and moves the vase of 
Hozvers a trifle, draws the zvindozv shade a bit lower, 
fusses a little zvith curtain, then crosses to bedroom 
and goes off. As Jennie goes off Tillie enters 
form dining-room, looks about room for vase of 
flowers for dining table, goes to piano, takes vase 
therefrom and starts toward dining-room. Jennie 
re-enters from bedroom^ Tillie, the flowers on the 
center table are fresher. 
Tillie. Yes'm. 

{Returns to piano with vase, takes vase from, table, 
goes into dining-room and closes folding doors. 
Jennie takes vase from piano, glances at clock 
and places vase on table. Enter Smith r. d., 
not hurriedly as of old, but taking his time. 
He wears a light-weight overcoat and looks 
much younger than in previous acts. Is 
better fed, better groomed, and quite normal. 
Has a nice comfortable-looking stomach and a 
big smile. Is a new man, healthy, happy, 
prosperous, calm and contented.) 

Smith. (Entering very deliberately) Hello, 
dear. 

Jennie. Hello ! 

Smith. (Going toward her deliberately — She to- 
ward him rapidly) The train was late. 

Jennie. I knezv it was the train. (He elevates 
his arms deliberately to embrace her but she is im- 
patient — wants to be kissed quick. Playfully but 
serious) Hurry, dear! Don't be so slow! 

(He smiles good naturedly, embraces her and is 
about to kiss her when she kisses three times 
in rapid succession.) 



114 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. How's the kiddy? 

Jennie. Proud as a little peacock over that new^ 
tooth. ( They start down, his arm around her zvaist) 
She is probably showing it to the fairies this very 
minute. 

Smith. Isn't she a great girl ! Never makes any 
trouble! (Removing overcoat deliberately, Jennie 
assisting somewhat) I've got an appetite as big as 
a battleship. \A^hat are we going to have for 
dinner ? 

Jennie. Phoebe is going to surprise us. 

Smith. Good! What I like about Phoebe is 
she always has her meals on time and she cooks 
enough of everything. (Starts tozvard vestibule 
with overcoat) 

Jennie. And she's honest. 

Smith. (Stopping and looking at Jennie) I 
don't know about that, Jennie. There was once a 
chicken with a red string — Well, never mind. (He 
hangs up his overcoat in the vestibule. As he re- 
enters) 

Jennie. (Drolly — she has been zvatching him) 
Are you ill, dear? 

Smith. (Coming toward her — smiling) T never 
felt as well in my life. Why? 

Jennie. You are so slow. 

Smith. Large bodies are always slow. 

Jennie. And yours is getting larger every day. 
(Offers him the smoking jacket) 

Smith. (As he removes coat) H it keeps on, T 
think I'll have to either join the Marathon Club or 
play golf. 

Jennie. Or stay home from the office on Mon- 
day morning and help Plioebe with the wash. 
(Craftily, as she helps him put on jacket) I — I 
don't suppose, George, you've heard from the 
Dodges, lately? 

S^riTH. AMiat made vou think of them? 



WHAT'S WRONG. 115 

Jennie. {Evasively) Oh,— it just came to me. 
Have you? 

Smith. (/// a kind but someivhat disgusted 
spirit) No, I haven't heard from Perry for over 
a vear and what's more, iVe just ahout given up all 
hope of ever hearing from him. He's probably so 
fat and prosperous that he hasn't the ambition to 
sign his name to a letter, let alone writing one. 
Jennie. Perry is probably very busy. 
Smith. In Seattle? Oh, no! He's sound 
asleep. And besides, no man has the right to be so 
confounded busy that he can't spare time to write 
to his friends? Any man who allows his busmess 
to make a slave of him is a fool. I wouldn't. A 
man ought to use his common sense. (Jennie 
sidiles. 'Jennie has picked up her zvork basket to 
have it out of the way and is laying the baby cap 

in it Smith puts his arm about her and sees the 

cap) Hello! Is that what you are making for 
baby? (Jennie nods. Smith takes up the bonnet 
and dangles it, admiringly, at arm's length) Isn't 
that great! It's wonderful! Do you think she's 
av/ake yet? (Starts towards bedroom) 

Jennie. No, don't wake her up, George. (She 
lavs aside the zvork basket containing the bonnet. 
Then takes him by his arm and escorts him to easy- 
chair) Plow was business to-day.^ 
Smith. Good, very good. 
Jennie. That's nice. 

Smith. {As he sits in easy-chair) People are 
beginning to realize that the only safe place to 
invest their money is in land. 

Jennie. Your Argentine investment is proving 
profitable, isn't it? -1 • 1 

Smith. I wish we had twenty just like it! 
(Pinching her cheek) My old partner! (The 
telephone rings. Smith starts to rise) 
..Jennie. Don't bother, dear, I'll answer it. 
(Crosses to 'phone and picks it up) Yes — Mr. 



if6 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith? — Yes, but 

Smith. (Provoked at hazing hecu disturbed) 
Who is it? 

Jennie. {To Smith) . Eddie, at the office. 

Smith. {Emphatically) Doesn't he know that I 
left strict orders never to call me up at my home? 

Jennie. He says it's important. 

Smith. {Provoked— angrily) I don't care if it 
is. 

Jennie. {Quietly, in 'phone) Just a moment, 
Eddie. 

Smith. {As before) My home's my home and I 
don't propose to turn it into a business office. 

Jennie. {Who has her ear to the telephone) 
Oh, I see — Just a moment. {To Smith) The 
Society for the Prevention of Aged and Jndigent 
Horses. 

Smith. I know the rest — Mrs. Lee-Hugh. 
(Smiling, as if amused, and rising) 

Jennie. Do you know what she wants? 

Smith. Yes. She wants me to pension another 
old horse. (He reaches out hand and Jennie gives 
him the 'phone. Then, in telephone, calmly and 
pleasantly) Eddie, you tell Mrs. Lee-Hugh that 
I'm willing to pension an old mule or an old 
automobile but that I don't intend to pension any- 
thing that is subject to colts — That's final. And 
Eddie — it's all right this time but if you ever dare 
to call me up again on business at my home, con- 
sider yourself discharged. That's final, too. 
(Hangs up receiver and places telephone on the 
stand — Then sits in easy-chair again) 

Jennie. Whatever became of that old horse 
you've been pensioning so long? Did she die? 

Smith. No, they sold her the other day to 
Buffalo Bill's Wild West. 

Jennie. How lovely ! 

Smith. (Proudly) And they say she's the 
wildest horse in the show. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 117 

Jennie. How proud you must be! We'll takj 
baby to see her. 

(Smith leans over to unlace his shoe, monkeys 
zi'ith it lahorlouslv a moment, then straightens 
up and looks at Jennie.) 

Smith. Jennie, 1 am going to stay home Mon- 
day morning. I'm getting so stout that T can't 
unlace my own shoes. 

Jennie. I'll unlace them this time, but here- 
after — (Shakes her head play f idly severe. Then 
picks up the footstool) 

Smith. (As Jennie puts stool in front of chair) 
Never mind, dear. (He tries to unlace shoe but 
Jennie slaps his hand playfully and, sitting on the 
footstool, unlaces one of Smith's shoes in spite of 
his efforts to do it himself. She taps his hand play- 
fully — to stop him. Finally he gives in and leans 
hack in chair. Reminiscently — after zvatching 
Jennie a fezv moments) Jennie, I've just been 
thinking — (After slight pause) When our little 
girl is a loving little wife like you, I wonder whose 
shoes she will be unlacing. 

Jennie. You never can tell dear. The little boy 
v\ ho is to be her husband may some time become 
President of the United States. And again 

Smith. He might be a policeman. Somehow I 
hate that fellow already. 

Iennie. Why dear? (Goes on unlacing his 
shoe) 

Smith. Well, a domestic man — like me — wants 
to keep his children by his side as long as he can. 
You take awful chances when you have girls. 

(JiNNiE glances at him. She sees that he is 
troubled over something. As she slips off his 
shoe she glances at him again. Then she puts 
his slipper on. During the following, she 



fi8 WHAT'S WRONG. 

unties his left shoe — the same business as be- 
fore. ) 

Jennie. Did something happen to-day, George? 

Smith. No, but — I'm just thinking. 

Jennie. What about? 

Smith. (Gravely) Jennie: did you ever stop to- 
think that our daughter's a girl. 

Jennie, A daughter could hardly be a boy^ 
dearest. 

Smith. No, but the fact remains — She IS a girl,. 
and we must be prepared. 

Jennie. Prepared for what, dear? 

Smith. W'hy, for the bills. Girls cost money, 

Jennie. \\^ell, we have money, haven't we? 

Smith. Not enough. It costs a fortune to raise 
girls. 

Jennie. When did you first realize that little 
girls were so tremendously expensive? 

{During the follo7vi)ig, as Jennie unlaces his shoe^ 
Smith begins to thrum his fingers on chair- 
arm as if deeply worried. He removes his 
shoe, Jennie puts on his slipper.) 

Smith. When you were taking ofif my shoe. 
{Subdued but intensely in earnest and pointing in 
direction of bedroom door which is ajar — partly 
open) Did it ever occur to you that that little baby 
in there isn't going to be a baby all her life? She's 
going to grow up. We're going to send her to 
college. She's going to have measles, mumps, fine 
clothes, fine hats, whooping cough. She's going to 
travel. You're going to travel with her. She's 
going to have lots of friends. \\^e're going to give 
her lots of. parties. , 

Jennie. {Pointing tozvards bedroom door) Sh ! 

Smith. And when she's married we're going to 
give her a fine wedding and stock her up with 
towels and sheets and pillow-cases. And for all we 



WHAT'S WRONG. Try 

Ivnow we'll have to support her husband and buy 
"him a new automobile every year. And then when 
the grandchildren come — Great heavens. Jennie, 
you don't know what it costs to raise a girl ! Fm 
not complaining. I'm only too glad to make money 
for our little girl. It's not her fault she's a girl. 
But if she'd been a boy it'd be different. By the 
time a boy's old enough to vote he can take care 
of himself, but a girl can't. 

Tennte. T took care of myself. 

Smith. But you're an exception. You can't 
expect her to come up to her mother. Jennie : — 
from the moment a girl enters this world, a pink 
little baby, until she leaves it, an old white-headed 
Avoman, she is helpless and dependent. (Rises im- 
portantly) 

Jennie. (On the stool, looking up, and humoring 
him) Yes, dear. 

Smith. All women are dependent. 

Jennie. Yes, dear. 

Smith. It's a tough proposition but it's a fact, 
and we might as well look the fact in the face and 
get ready. I must make more money and I must 
make it cjuickly. 

Jennie. (Rising— -lays her hand tenderly on his 
arm) Sit down, Wall Street. (He looks at her, 
pitc:!:led) You don't have to make it this very 
minute. 

Smith. 1 tell you — — 

Jennie. Now don't get keyed up, dear. 

Smith. No, Jennie: I promised you not to get 
keyed up and work over time ; but it's an aw^ful 
temptation to- 

Jennie. (Kindly, yet firmly, interrupting him) 
George. (Points to easy-ehair) 

Smith. Oh, all right. 

(Smith sits in easy-ehair. ]ennte sits on left arm 
of it.) 



120 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Jennie. (Whimsically) You're quite right, dear. 
It does cost a fortune to raise little girls. And that 
is why little girls are so scarce. That is why they 
have always been so scarce. Only the richest 
families can afford to have little girls — and even 
they must be content to have them one at a time. 
That is why you never see little girls in the homes 
of poor people. Never ! Little boys are there by 
the bushel because little boys can be raised on mush 
and milk and lots of love, 1)Ut little girls — (Smiling) 
You never see little girls in the parks or on the 
streets or at picnics. It's always boys. That is why 
there are so few women in the world. You know, 
vou generally have to have little girls before you can 
have grown women. And that explains why there 
are always more men than women in the women 
suffrage parades — and likewise, more husbands than 
wives. It also explains why fathers always file a 
petition of bankruptcy the moment the . family 
physician opens the door and says — (Quietly and 
very gravely — imitating physician) " My friend, I 
am sorry — and you have my heartfelt sympathy, but 
as your family physician, it is my sad duty to inform 
you that your wife is the mother of a girl." When 
Georgiana came, you filed a petition of bankruptcy, 
didn't you? 

Smith. I did not. 

Jennie. But you are going to, aren't you? 

(Smith is defeated. He slips his arm around 
Jennie's zvaist, and smiles sheepishly. He is 
now [almost] as calm as when he entered.) 

Smith. I surrender. Little girls can be raised 
just as cheaply as little boys— mush and milk and 
lots of love. That's all they need ! I'm blamed if 
I'll ever begin stewing over anything again! 

Jennie. But you were stewing. George, Tm 
going to nip you in the bud. (She rises and starts 
up towards bookcase) 



WHAT'S WRONG. 121 

Smith. What do you mean? 

Jennie. I'm going to punish you. 

Smith. (Innocently — like Flossie in Act I.) 
What have / done? 

Jennie. Do you remember the night you gave 
me my engagement ring? 

Smith. Certainly, but 

Jennie. (Smiling) You wanted to marry me im- 
mediately. 

Smith. Who wouldn't have? 

Jennie. I said to you : " When you have calmed 
down and become a normal man instead of a bundle 
of nerves, my beloved George, I shall marry you, 
but not until." Remember? 

Smith. Yes and I went straight to that sanita- 
rium in Philadelphia. And when I got out 

Jennie. The night we were married you were 
the calmest man in the room. 

Smith. Of course I was ! 

Jennie. Who taught you to be calm? 

Smith. The Sanitarium — and you— mostly you. 

Jennie. (Smiling, but in earnest) This evening 
we are going to revive those old lessons in calmness. 
( Rises) 

Smith. (Rising and pleading like a boy in dread 
of a zvhipping) Don't Jennie. For heaven's sake. 
Don't make me do all those stunts over again. 

Jennie. Not all of them, dtsiv— (Satirically) 
fust the most pleasing parts. 

(She starts towards book-case. Smith watches 
her despondently until she is almost there.) 

Smith. No, no, I can't, Jennie. I'll rock the 
Ijaby instead. The baby always pleases me. (He 
rushes into bed-room) 

(Jennie has gone to book-case. She opens the 
loiver drawer, takes out metrenome, then comes 



122 WHAT'S WRONG. 

dozvn to table, with the metrenonie. Re-enter 
Smith, follozved by Agnes. Smith has 
Georgiana in his arms and paces rapidly r. 
jostling her as if he ivere making a milk shake. 
Agnes, horrified, stands near bed-room door 
and watches Smith. She doesn't knoiv zvhat 
to do. Just stares at Smith, helplessly. 
Arrived above piano, Smith reverses and paces 
L. Jennie, sets the metrenome adjuster at 60 
Largo, after removing the front panel of the 
instrument; Smith, in the meantime, has 
reached the bed-room door again and is pacing 
R. Upon arriving at piano again, he comes 
dozvn R. almost on a running walk and still 
swinging the baby. As he passes the table, 
Jennie stops him gently.) 
Jennie. If you must rock the baby, dear, keep 
time to this metrenome. 

Smith. (Screzving face up, like a kid about to 
take medicine) Great Scott! Do I have to do that 
again ? 

Jennie. (Playfully severe) When children dis- 
obey they must be punished. (Begins to zvind 
metrenome) 

Smith. {SmiUrdg at metrenome. Agnes dis- 
creetly retires) I thought you'd thrown that thing 
away long ago. 

Jennie. No, George. I didn't have the heart to 
throw away an old friend. (vS^^^^ metrenome on 
table and starts pendulum szmnging) Now, begin. 
One — two — three — four. 

Smith. (Drily) Oh Lord! Yes, dear. 

(Jennie stops pendulum, then, starting it, counts as 
the pendulum swings back and forth — about 
tzvo seconds betzveen each count. She holds on 
to Smith's sleeve until further notice.) 

Jennie. (Beating time zvith index finger of right 



WHAT'S WRONG. 123 

hand; metrenome nozv on table) One — two— three 
-four— one— two— three — four. {Turniny to 
Smith ) As— you— pace — my— dear— please— 

l^eep — time— to — this— met— re— nome. Be— gin — 
my— dear— be— loved— hus— band. (Starting dozvn 
-Jith him ) One— two— three— four— one— two 
■ three four — (They face l. and cross l. dur- 
ing the follozving) 'You— must— not— for— get- 
that— I— will— pun— ish— you— ev—e—ry— time — 
yot^_hurr— y— or — worr — y— be — cause — if— you 

do — you — soon — will — be — the — ner — vous — 

^^;i-eck— you— were— be— fore — I— mar — ried— you. 
{Arrived at lower right, having paced to fireplace 
and returned during the above, Jennie faces Smith 
right about and starts him R. alone. He paces in 
time during the follozving) While— you— are— pac 
___ing_back— and— forth— to— lull— our— child — 
to— sleep— I— shall— fin— ish— her— birth — day — 

bon — net. 

Smith. {Halting and imitating her speech) W ny 
— in — thun — der-^should — I — have — to — — 

Jennie. {She goes to him and takes him, gently 
by arm) One— two — three — four — {Starting him 
off) All— right— be— gin. {Suirn does not obey) 

Smith. {SuppHcatingly yet genuinely deliberate, 
calm) Please let me stop, Jennie. I'm not nervous. 
And I promise you that as long as^ I live I won't 
ever even seem to worry over anything. Please let 

me stop. 

Jennie. All right, dear. (Pointing finger play- 
fully severe at him) But remember, if you break 
your promise, vou will have to begin all over agam — 
hot milk, raw 'eggs, deep breathing, metrenome ex- 
ercise and all the rest of it every night and morn- 
ing- , . 

Smith. I won't break it. 

Jennie. {As she takes baby from him, gently) 
Now, you may rock her to sleep here by the fire. 

Smith. (Proudly and happily) Great! The 



124 WHAT'S WRONG. 

proudest moment of a man's life is when he's rock- 
ing his first baby to sleep ! 

Jennie. {To Agnes at bedroom door) Agnes, 
bring the basanet. 

Smith. {Wisely) Later on he gets used to 'em. 

(Jennie glances at him as much as to say — "' You 
are assuming a great deal, George") 

Jennie. {Drolly) Yes, Brigham. {She stops 
pendulum of the metrenome and places it on table. 
Re-enter Agnes, carrying a small szvinging basanet. 
It is made of wicker^ has a silk canopy and is very 
pretty. Smith meets Agnes as she comes doivn, 
takes basanet from her and places it at r. of easy- 
chair. Jennie kneels, places baby in basanet and 
covers it with a little blanket. As Jennie rises to 
feet. Smith, as happy as a boy zvith a new toy — 
sits in easy-chair and begins to slowly swing basanet. 
Jennie goes to Agnes. To Agnes, quietly) Hot 
milk, Agnes, please. 

Agnes. Yes, ma'am. {Exit Agnes, dining-room) 

(Jennie goes to fireplace, takes a stick of wood 
from woodbasket and puts it on the fire. She 
then goes quietly up to bookcase and begins to 
look for a certain book.) 

Smith. {Singing, as he swings the basanet slowly 
back and forth) 

Rock-a-bye baby in the tree-top, 
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. 
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, 
Down comes my rock-a-bye, baby and all. 

{Slight pause, then) Jennie? 

Jennie. {As she takes a large book from book- 
case) Yes, George. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 125 

Smith. (Gravely, as he gazes front — and rocks 
hasanet slozvly) Do you know what is the only 
salvation for the xA.merican business man whose 
nerves are all shot to thunder? 

Jennie. {As she (/lances at book, which she has 
opened) No, dear. 

Smith. {Idealistic ally) His wife — His wife, a 
little home and a baby. (Jennie comes dozvn to 
.him with book) Jennie, you're a wonderful woman ! 
If it hadn't been for you. I wouldn't have a little 
borne to-night. And if it hadn't been for you, th^ 
chances are I wouldn't have had a baby, either. 

Jennie. I'm glad you feel that way about it, 
George. 

Smith. I do. (Singing) 

'* Rock-a-bye baby up in the tree-top, 
When the wind blows " 

(Smiling) Jennie dear? 

Jennie. Yes. 

Smith. Will I have time to take a nap before 
dinner? 

Jennie. Yes — if you don't take it too long. (Re- 
enter Agnes with a small pitcher of hot milk and a 
glass on a tray. Jennie hands glass of milk to 
Smith. Exit Agnes, dining-room) Here is some 
hot milk Agnes brought you. 

Smith. She's one of the most thoughtful girls T 
ever knew. Here I am, getting ready to take a nap, 
and in she conies with some nice hot milk. Golly, 
l)ut that will make me sleep ! (As Smith drinks hot 
m ilk ) 

Jennie. If it doesn't, perhaps this book will. 

{ Smith gives her the empty glass and takes the 
book.) 

Smith. What is it — fiction? (Reading title of 



126 WHAT'S WRONG. 

book) A History of the Rise and Fall of the 
American Tariff, With Judiciary Comments By 
William Howard Taft. Hm ! (Lays it carefully 
on the floor — leans back in chair. Jennie turns the 
lamp lozv, then she goes to the piano, sits and plays. 
" Rock-a-bahy " softly. After a pause — completely 
satisfied) Perry Dodge may be fat and prosperous, 
but when it comes to being happy, he will certainly 
have to take his hat off to me. 

Jennie. (D roily — to humor him, as she plays) 
Yes, George, 

(Presently Smith doces off to sleep. Jennie 
glances at him and seeing that he is asleep, plays 
softer and softer until there is no sound at all. 
Then she rises, smiles at her sleeping husband, 
goes to him and kisses him very tenderly on his 
forehead. She glances at clock. It cuckoos 
the half hour. Then she carries basanet into 
bedroom. The room is now dark but due to 
the reflection from the fireplace the face and 
body of the sleeping Smith can be seen dis- 
tinctly. His face seems to be the picture of 
contentment. A squeaking automobile-honi 
sounds off R. It sounds very near — as if the 
car was in front of the house. Smith, how- 
ez'cr, does not hear it. He is sound asleep. At 
the sound of the auto-horn Jennie re-appears 
and turns up the lamp, then hastens to R. d. and 
opens it. Enter Marjorie Dodge. Marjorie 
is no longer the quiet, unassuming, simply 
dressed little home-body. She is now a society 
climber. She is dressed to the minute, has 
■ mastered the latest tango step, is an expert 
gambler at Bridge, takes her after-dinner 
cigarette, her before-dinner cocktail and acts, 
talks and looks as if there were only three 
things in life worth living for — fine clothes. 
Auction Bridge and the tango. She wears a 



WHAT'S WRONG. ^27 

}onq handsome silk cloak under zvhich is a 
gorgeous and shockingly modern Ml-room 
mum -the most expensive thing Bendel coud 
show' her. The cloak completely coz'ers the 
dress Her hat and slippers are m keeping with 
the ciown. 'She has come dressed for a tango- 
supper to he given in the city and to zvhich she 
and Ferry are planning to return later in the 
evening When she enters, the cloak is but- 
toned, thereby completely hiding the gown. 
And the light in the room h so subdued that 
the gay colors and design of the hat don't stand 
. out prominently.) 

JENNIE {Delighted, but in a low voice) Marjorie ! 
Marjorie! (She embraces and kisses her then, 
^^eppinq hack and surveying her) My, but its 
good to see you! I thought you'd forgotten us. 
And how well you're looking! n • . 

Marjorie. (Breezih) I ought to look well— just 
came from Bendel's.' Been there ever smce T 
reached New York. And believe me, Jennie I cer- 
tainly did buy the last word in Pans gowns. ( C om- 
Tng dozvn) Is George home yet.-* 
' Jennie. (WarningW) Sh! . 

Marjorie. {Lozvering her voice—and stopping) 
What's the matter:^ 

Jennie. (In a half zvhisper) He s asleep. 
( Pointing tozvards chair) 

Marjorie. (Incredulous, and in great amaze- 
ment) Asleep? 

[ennie. Completely. . 

Marjorie. {After glancing at easy-chair^ b he 
cant see Smith) What ails him-is he sick? 

Jennie. Does he look sick ?> (The following is 
hlnvpd zvith low voices) 

MartoRIE. (Taking a look at SMmi--then in 
great surprise) No, but-What on earth have you 
been doing to him." 



r28 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Jennie. Nothing. Why? 

Marjorie. He's fat enough to be an alderman ! 

Jennie. (Drolly) He won't, though. I'll see to 
that. 

Marjorie. But how on earth can he tango with 
all that meat on his frame? 

Jennie. He doesn't. 

Marjorie. (Surprised and somewhat loudly } 
Don't 3^ou? 

Jennie. (Raising finger, to warn her against wak- 
ing Smith) Sh! Take off your wraps and stay 
a while. (Slips arm around her waist and escorts 
her r. They are nozv near window-seat, zvhere they 
stop) 

Marjorie. [Somewhat anxiously, as she unbut- 
tons cloak) Has Perry 'phoned out? 

Jennie. No, but he'll be here for dinner, won't 
he? 

Marjorie. (Peevishly) He said he would, — but 
he ought to be here now. (As she removes cloak, 
Jennie assisting) He promised to take me to a 
tango supper at the— (The cloak is now off, expos- 
ing to view the gown) 

Jennie. (Stunned as she beholds the gown) 
Marjorie! 

Marjorie. (Glancing at her, blankly) What's 
the matter? 

Jennie. Your gown ! 

Marjorie. (Smiling proudly at her own gown ) 
Like it? (Poses) 

Jennie. It's the most wonderful thing I ever 
saw ! 

Marjorie. You haven't seen the best part of it. 
(Struts up stage, finger tips resting lightly on hips 
to show off back of dress) See that back? 

Jennie. (Naively) Yes, I can see most of it. 

Marjorie. (Breezily and glancing over shoulder 
at her) Some back, isn't it! 

[ennie. Yes, but 



WHAT'S WRONG. 129 

Marjorie. New York hasn't anything on me — • 
even if I do live in Seattle ! 

Jennie. (With a droll little smile) You haven't 
z'ery much on yourself, Marjorie. 

Marjorie. (Not getting the point of Jennie'.s 
joke) What? 

Jennie. (Turning it aside) I said, " How much 
you have changed." 

Marjorie. (As she saunters down) I've lost 
forty pounds, if that's what you mean. And to- 
night I'm going to knock off a few more. Jenn, 
there's nothing like the tango for reducing! You 
ought to try it on George. 

Jennie. (Looking towards Smith) Sh!I 

Marjorie. Have you got any cigarettes? I left 
mine at the hotel. 

Jennie. No, but George sometimes smokes a 
pipe. Would that— Oh, that reminds me — did your 
bulbs grow? 

Marjorie. (Puzzled) Bulbs? What on earth 
are you talking about ? 

Jennie. Your favorite bulbs and rose bushes — 
the ones you took out west with you. 

Marjorie. (Dimly remembering but not in the 
least interested) Oh, yes. ( Yawns and sits in rock- 
ing chair) 

Jennie. Is your home in Seattle anything like the 
one you had here ? That was such a cozy little place. 

Marjorie. Heavens no! We live at the most 
expensive hotel in town — and ours is the most ex- 
pensive suite in the hotel. 

Jennie. Do you prefer that to a home? 

Marjorie. Well, I guess ! That way I don't have 
to do anything but have a good time. ( Yawns as if 
weary) May I have a cocktail? I was up all night 
and — (Yazvns again) 

Jennie. (Sympatheti'cally) Weren't you well? 

Marjorie. Yes, but some girls from 'Frisco got 



T30 WHAT'S WRONG. 

on the train at Chicago and we played Auction all 
night. Some game ! Seattle against 'Frisco. 

Jennie. [As before) Sh ! 

Marjorie. For the love of Murphy, give me a 
cocktail. Fm frazzled to a finish. 

Jennie. Fm sorry, Marjorie, but we haven't 
any 

Marjorie. (Somewhat impatiently) Then give 
me a Bromo Seltzer. 

Jennie. Fm awfully sorry, Marjorie, but — 
Here's some hot milk. (Pouring out some from 
pitcher) 

Marjorie. (Disgusted) In the name of Maude 
Muller, what is this place, anyhow — the barracks of 
the grape juice brigade? (Sarcastically) Hot 
milk ! 

Jennie. (Patting Marjorie's hand) T know 
some on who is very very tired. 

Marjorie. (Irritably) You make me tired. I 
was all right when I came here. (Jerks her hand 
azvay from Jennie and turning her back upon 
Jennie, looks disgustedly at Smith) No wonder he 
sleeps. I don't blame him. HI had to stay here 
very long, Fd do the Rip Van Winkle stunt myself. 

Jennie. (Kindly but drolly and significantly) 
There is a slight difference between George and Rip 
Van Winkle. Rip couldn't sleep at home. 

Marjorie. (Petidantly) I don't care a rap what 
Rip couldn't do — I came to New York to hit the 
high spots and Fm going to hit them ! 

Jennie. (Drolly serious) If you take a nice little 
snooze before dinner you can hit the high spots 
higher. Marjorie looks at her, disgusted. Jennie 
slips arm about Marjorie's zvaist and smiles) 
Come and lie down, little marksman. 

Marjorie. (Irritably — indicating dress) How- 
can I lie down with this on? 

Jennie. Take it off. . ■ 

Marjorie. Then I can never get it on again. 



WHAT'S WRONG. • 131 

JepsNie. Wliy not? 

Marjorh:. {Petulant) When I sleep I swell up. 

Jennie. Then don't go to sleep. Just lie down 
and rest. (Humoring her) That's a good little 
sj)ort. {She escorts Marjorie toward bed-room) 

Marjorie. {Peevishly, as they go) All right, but 
why in the Dickens doesn't Perry come ! He's al- 
ways late when I want him to take me any place ! 

Jennie. {At bed-room door — drolly but kindly 
and as if to soothe Marjorie) Don't blame him, 
Marjorie — there may be a reason. {They exit — 
Jennie closes door) 

{Slight pause, then Smith snores a quiet, gentle, 
peaceful little snore. Another pause, then he 
snores again and smiles as if dreaming a 
pleasant Dream. Enter Perry Dodge, r. d., 
quickly, nervously. He is thin, haggard and 
carezvorn and looks years older than before. 
He is hollow-eyed and worried and his com- 
fortable looking stomach is gone. He is now 
■ like Smith used to be. only worse, — tired but 
keyed up, nervous and intense and strictly busi- 
ness. His motto has become Speed and 
M o n e y. He looks quite dyspeptic. He wears 
a business suit and his shoes are covered zvith 
dust, as if he had been zvalking on a dusty road. 
He is quite bald and what hair remains is 
streaked with grey. He enters briskly and de- 
terminedly, as if entering an office on a very 
important business matter that had to be settled 
immediately and quickly. Closes door, auto- 
matically; glances around room, sees no one, 
frowns impatiently, jerks out watch, glances at 
it, then espies bed-room door, and shoving 
watch back in pocket, starts rapidly toward 
door. As he starts, Smith snores loudly. 
Perry, surprised, stops in his tracks and listens. 
Slight pause, then Smith snores again, even 



132 WHAT'S WRONG. 

louder than before. Instantly Perry locates 
the sound and, eyes riveted on easy-chair, goes 
down to it, quickly but curiously. Arrived at 
R. of chair, he stops and looks at Smith 
curiously, as if not sure that he really knows 
the man. Then he zvalks slozvly around and 
front of him, studying Smith's face. After 
Perry has passed in front of Smith and is 
near the fireplace. Smith snores a lusty, whole- 
hearted snore. Perry's lozver jaw drops and, 
in utter amazement, he stares at Smith. 

Perry. {After a pause) Great Scott! Is that 
George? {AJ this moment, Smith gives a good 
healthy yawn, stretches himself and zvith a series 
of ecstatic sounds, he turns in his chair, so that he 
faces Perry — half opens his eyes and with a long 
soul-inspirng snore, drops off to sleep again as peace- 
fully as a baby after a dose of paregoric. Dropping 
into a chair, facing Smith. Flabbergasted, to him,- 
self, as he gazes at him) I'll be damned! 

{Re-enter Jennie, from bed-room. She doesn't see 
Perry and he doesn't see her. She smiles off 
L. at the sleeping Marjorie as she closes bed- 
room door slozvly and softly. When door is 
closed, she turns towards Smith and sees the 
strange man seated in a chair, facing him — and 
not recognizing Perry, gives a half smothered 
exclamation of fright. ) 

Jennie. Oh! 

Perry. {Recovering from the shock of seeing 
Smith asleep and not knowing Jennie is in the 
room, rises and, going to Smith, touches him on the 
shoulder) Say, Smith^ — Smith. (Smith does not 
zvake) 

Jennie. You let my husband alone ! Who are 
you? I'll call for help — V\\—{Goes toward tele- 
phone) 



WHAT'S WRONG. i33 

Perk^-. Why Jennie. (Jennie turns and looks 
at him, bennldered) It's only me— Perry Dodge. 

Jennie. {Looking at him closely) Are you really 
Perry Dodge? 

Perry. Of course Pm Perry Dodge! Who do 
YOU think I am. Huerta? How are you Jennie? 
Didn't mean to frighten you. {Shaking her hand 
nearh off) Say Jennie : is that George or have you 
divorced him and married some one else? (Smith 
snores gently) I don't recognize that man. 

Jennie. (Smiling) It's the same George. 

Perry. {Anxiously — glancing at Smitb.) What's 
happened — is he drinking? 

(Jennie shakes her head.) 

Jennie. {Drily but significantly) Eating. 
(Smith snores loudly) 

Perry. For the love of —Listen to that ! -{Jerks 
out watch and looks at it) And it isn't six o'clock 
yet! 

Jennie. {With a proud little smile) You should 
hear him at twelve ! 

Perry. I haven't snored like that since I left New 
York! But wake him up Jennie — I want to talk 
business. Hurry. 

Jennie. My — but you have changed. 
Perry. I've been hustling since I saw you. 
There's big chances out West to make money and 
I'm making it. {He starts toward Smith but 
Jennie takes hold of his arm, and stops him) 
Jennie. George never talks business at home. 
Perry. But this is important! {Starts tozvard 
Smith. Jennie takes hold of his arm again and 
stops him) 

Jennie. No: you mustn't wake him up. We'll 
chat until 

(Smith snores comfortably, contentedly. PERR^■ 



134 WHAT'S WRONG. 

frowns at him. Smith's snoring irritates 
Perry.) 

Perry. (He removes Jennie's hand from his arm. 
Confidentially) Listen — To-morrow I sail for 
Europe. I'm going to introduce my hulled corn into 
England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Germany, 
France, Spain, and all the rest of 'em. I'm going to 
get the British Government to feed it to the Army 
andif the Government refuses, I'll call on Mrs. 
Pankhurst. Listen. If the militant suffragettes of 
England ate my hulled corn every morning for 
breakfast, inside of six weeks they'd be able 
to knock everv bull-headed Englishman off the 
Island. WHERE THERE'S CORN THERE'S 
STRENGTH ! (Smith snores and Jennie glances 
at him hoping Perry won't ivake him up) You don't 
believe it ! Listen — To-day. in China, where for 
thousands of years the only thing the people ate was 
rice, my hulled corn's being sold by the shipload. 
People are buying it by the ton. And what's the 
result? China is waking up ! {Prophetically) In- 
side of fiftv years the Chinese people will rule the 
Orient. And why? CORN! WHERE THERE'S 
CORN THERE IS STRENGTH ! (Jennie is now 
ga::.ing at him as if deeply interested not so much in 
what he is saying as the way he says it. She is 
thinking of the great change that has come over him 
since he left New York and there is a little twinkle 
in her eye. But Perry thinks she is intensely in- 
terested in ivhat he is saying and that he is hypnoti::.- 
ing her with his wonderful tale of success. He 
steps close to her. There is a slight pause during 
which Smith turns over on his right side, rest- 
lessly. He sleeps in that position during the follozv- 
ing, zvhich is spoken persuasively and in natural 
voice) Two years ago I introduced my hulled corn 
into Alaska. To-day Alaska is taking more gold 
out of the sfround and fish out of the sea than ever 



WHAT'S WRONG. 135 

before in her life. Need I ask whyf {Pauses to 
let the argument sink in — Smith turns over on his 
left side) Drop down the Pacific Coast into British 
ColumlMa. You hear nothing but my hulled corn. 
(Pauses as before — Smith turns over on his back 
as if in the throes of a bad dream) Come on down 
the coast to the Pacific States of our own country, 
(Smith opens his eyes slowly and gases vacantly 
front, as if listening to something in a dream. 
Perry makes a slight pause) When the women of 
California made up their minds they wanted the 
ballot, what happened? (Slight pause. Smith is 
interested) They got it, and they got it quick. 
(Perry smiles proudly at Jennie and Smith turns 
his head slozvly and glances curiously at Perry. 
Smith thinks it is all a dream) Need I tell you 
what the women of California eat? (Smith's 
glance becomes a gaze. Jennie and Perry do not 
see him -their eyes being fixed on one another's) 
And when peace is restored in Mexico, if it ever is 
restored, what will restore it? Puffed Rice? Cream 
of Wheat? Quaker Oats? Not in a thousand years ! 
(Prophetically) The man that takes the Dove of 
Peace to the City of Mexico and keeps her there, 
A. ill be corn-fed. Understand? Fed on COR N — 
H U L L E D CORN! (Smith rises slowly and 
without taking his eyes off Perry, goes silently to 
the zvood-basket, picks up a stick of wood and hold- 
ing it behind his back, approaches Perry slowly. 
iVo/ once does Smith, take his eyes off Perry zvhose 
back is to him. Smith thinks him a fanatic or an 
inmate zvho has escaped from some private asylum 
and, although not afraid of him, zvants to be pre- 
pared for any emergency, Jennie sees Smith and 
smiles but does not look at him. She keeps her eyes 
nn Perry who is unazvare of Smith's presence. 
He keeps right on talking) I've made one fortune 
already. Day and night my mills on Puget Sound 
are working to feed the hungry stomachs of the 



136 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Orient and Western America. Now I'm going to 
make another fortune and I want George to take 
half of it. He's a hustler, and I'm going to make 
him my partner. {Emphatically) Now will you 
let me talk to him? 

Smith. (He is immediately behind Perry) 
Pardon me, stranger, but 

(Perry glances over shoulder'- at him.) 

Perry. (Delighted) George! (Thrusts out his 
hand to shake) 

Smith. (Motioning him back, with free hand — 
kindly,. gently. He doesn't recognise Perry) Just 
a moment. 

Perry. (Amazed) Don't you know me? 

(Smith looks at him a moment, decides he is a 
lunatic. ) 

Smith. (To Jennie — quietly) 'Phone for the 
police. 

Jennie. (Serious— not in fun) How many? 

Perry. (Emphatic — to Smith) This is no time 
for joking, George — I'm here to talk business. 

Smith. (To Jennie who has started tozvard 
'phone) Wait a minute. (To Perry, looking at 
him curiously) Who are you, anyhow? 

Perry. (Impatient at his stupidity) Perry^ 
Perry Dodge! — Don't you know me either? 

Smith. (Incredidous and pointing finger at him) 
You? You Perry Dodge? 

Perry. (Angrily sarcastic) Say, what's the 
matter with me, anyway ? Nobody knows me ! ( To 
Jennie) Ain't I Perry Dodge! 

Jennie. (To Smith, who is gazing at Perry, 
completely bewildered) I'm afraid he is, George. 

Smith. Well I'll h&— (Stops) 

Jennie. (Smiling — to Smith) Say it — I wanted 
to. 



WHAT'S WRONG. 137 

(Smith tosses stick of wood into fireplace and 
shakes hands with Perry. During following 
Jennie goes to fireplace and places the wood 
on the fire.) 

Perry. (Strictly business — slapping George on 
the back) Now George: Vm off for Europe to- 
morrow and want to talk business with you all night. 
This is my proposition 

Smith. Just a moment, Perry — What have you 
been doing to yourself? 

Perry. Getting rich. 

(Phoebe Snow appears at dining room door.) 
>♦ 

Phoebe. Excuse me, but dere's a man at de bad: 
do' wants to see a thin nurvus gen'leman what ran 
away in his automobile. 

Perry. {Incisively to Phoebe) Tell him to come 
around to-morrow — Pm busy now. 

Phoebe. Yass, suh, but he shuh is mad. 

Perry. {Impatiently to Smith- — as Phoebe exits) 
Now here's my proposition, George 

Smith. Just a moment. Do I understand that 
you have stolen someone's automobile? 

Perry. No ! When I got off the train at th". 
depot, I jumped into a taxi-cab and yelled-- 
" Smith's ! Hurry ! " 

'* What Smith ? " said the driver. 

" George Smith ! " 

" There's four of 'em." 

" Th' one of Maplehurst Road ! " 

He lost five minutes talking than ran the car a 
l)lock and stopped for a cheroot. Imagine it ! Me — 
the busiest man in Seattle — every minute money — • 
sitting out there w^aiting for a 

''How far is it to Smith's?" says I. 

"■ Three miles," says he. 

" Straight ahead? " 



138 WHAT'S WRONG. 

** Yes — except when the road turns." 

He went into a cigar store, and I started the car. 

Jennie. You don't mean you ran away with the 
man's machine? 

Perry. No, it ran away with me and busted up 
against a tree. 

(" Heavy " appears in doorway. He is as heavy 
as in Act H but is now clean shaven. Wears 
taxi-driver' s clothes — leather cap, leather coat, 
heavy trousers, laced boots and gauntlets.) 

Heavy. (Pointing at Ferry) That's him ! You're 
the guy I'm after! (Heavy starts angrily towards 
Perry, but Smith steps in front of him) You 
keep out-a this ! He smashed my car an' he's gon-a 
pay for it. 

Smith. Now look here, friend. My wife is here 
and we don't want any trouble. {Recognizing him) 
Why bless me ! — It's Heavy. How are you, Heavy? 
(Grasping his hand and shaking it heartily) Glad 
to see you. 

Heavy. (With great diffiadty recognizing Smith) 
Say you ain't 

Smith. Yes. 

Heavy. Good! — (Knocked out^ sits down and 
stares at Smith) 

Smith. That's right! Make yourself at home. 

Heavy. (Recovering) So you're the nut that 

Jennie. How do you do, Mr. Heavy? 

Heavy. (To Jennie, completely flabbergasted) 
Pardon th' profanity, but my God ! Did you marry 
himf 

Jennie. Yes. (Then pleasantly) You remem- 
ber Mr. Dodge, don't you? (Seeing that Heavy 
doesn't see any resemblance of the Perry Dodge of 
Act II) The gentleman that called at the farm the 
day that 

Heavy. (Puzzled — to Jennie) The fat guy? 



WHAT'S WRONG. 139 

JENNJK. (Smiling) Yes — the comfortable gentle- 
man. 

Heavy. (To Perry) What happened? — Did you 
get into politics? 

Jennie. {Diplomatically) Now, Mr. Heavy, 
can't we adjust 

Smith. (To Heavy) Yes, can't we adjust- 



Heavy. (To Smith ) You keep out of this! He 
smashed my car and he's gon-a pay for it. 

Ferry. (Losing his temper) Say: I've had about 
enough of you! When I'm in a hurry 

Smith. {Gently, like a kind father to a ivayward 
son) Take your time. Perry. Take your time. 

Heavy. {In pugilistic attitude, fists clenched and 
glaring at Perry) Let 'im go on — T ain't afraid of 
him. 

Jennie. (Pleasantly to Heavy) How is little 
Woodrow ? 

Heavy. Almost as big as me. 

Jennie. Is he married yet? 

Heavy. No, but he's engaged. (Grinning) And 
th' girl's as big as me and Smith put together. 

JENNIE. Tc ! Tc! Tc! (Then tactfully) How 
much was your car damaged? 

Heavy. (Reasonably — politely) Five hundred 
dollars — but that ain't it. It's the principle of the 
thing. (To Perry — harshly) If you hadn't been 
in such a confounded hurry 

{Enter Marjurie, from bed-room. Her hair is 
askew and she looks half asleep. Rubs her 
eyes sleepily and doesn't notice anyone but 
Perry.) 

Marjorie. Oh, there you are. And not dressed ! 
Smith. (Surprised) Marjorie! 
Perry. (To Marjorie) I look as if I had time 
to dress, don't I? 

Marjorie. {Mad and nervous — as she goes to 



I40 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Perry) Perry Dodge, you promised to take me to 
that tango supper! 

Perry. (Trying to reason with her) Now 
listen 

Marjorie. I won't listen. It's always the same 
old story! (Stamping foot as he tries to speak) 
I won't! You said you'd take me. Didn't you? 
Didn't you? 

Perry. (Exasperated) Yes, but I'm busy. 
(Turns to Heavy) Now look here 

Marjorie. Don't you turn your back on uie! 
(Takes hold of his arm) 

Perry. (Facing her — angry but trying to appear 
very calm) For heaven's sake, Marjorie, control 
yourself. Don't make a scene. (Then savagely, to 
Heavy) Plow much do I owe you? 

Marjorie. (Almost hysterical) Perry Dodge, if 
you don't take me to that tango supper 

(Perry faces her, speechless zvith rage. Jennie, 
who is now at Marjorie's side, gently takes 
her by the arm and escorts her to window seat. 
As Jennie takes Marjorie's arm, PIeavy pats 
Perry sympathetically on the shoulder.) 

Heavy. (Sympathetically, almost tenderly, to 
Perry) That's all right, old man. You can pay 
me to-morrow. (Confidentially) You've got all 
you can handle to-night. 

(Perry takes Heavy by the arm and escorts him 
to r. d.) 

Perry. (Sincerely but rapidly to Heavy, as he 
escorts him to d. r.) Thanks for the sympathy. 
That's what I like about you taxi-drivers. You're 
always sympathetic^ (O/'^/u door) except in your 
prices. (Shoves him out, slams door shut and 

locks it) . . . .. . , •.. ;. . ; 



WHAT'S WRONG. 141 

Marjorie. {ApproachiiU) Perry, fairly bnrst'uuf 
ivith rage) Perry, if you don't 

Jennie. (To Perry and Marjorie) What's the 
trouble? You two used to be inseparable. 

Perry. Yes, Init a man can't get rich if he's run- 
ning around with his wife all the time. (To Smith) 
Now George, we'll get down to business. Here's my 
proposition — I'm going to introduce my hulled 
corn all over the w^orld and make a Ijank full of 
inoney. And I'm going to Itt you in on it. 

Marjorie. Perry Dodge, answer me ! " Yes " or 
"' No?" Are you 

Perry. {Breakhuj in. Emphatically) No. 
{Then to Smith) Already my mills on Puget 
Sound are running night and day to supply the 
Orient. Not only that ! Alaska 

Marjorie. (Who has been tapping her foot 
angrily, biting her lozver lip and gazing wrathfully 
at Perry, nozv explodes. She is so mad she almost 
cries) Perry Dodge, you're a mean, horrid old 
thing! You promised to take me to that dance and 
now you won't do it. (Perry raises hand as if to 
say — "Now listen") I won't listen! Pm going to 
tell you just what I think of you. You're a mean 
horrid old thing! All you think of is business, 
business, buisness ! 

(She pauses to breathe and Perry raises hand as 
before as if to reason with her.) 

Perr^ . Now^ 



ivIarjorie. (Stamping foot ) Even since we went 
to Seattle you've been crazy over hulled corn. You 
don't care that — (Snapping fingers) for me any 
more. I^verything's hulled corn, hulled corn ! 
( Covers her face with hands — cries) 

(Smith starts toward them to intervene but 
Jennie motions him to keep out of the fuss 
and he' stops.) 



142 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Perry. (Exasperated yet trying to be tender) 
Now be reasonable, Marjorie — this tango 

Marjorie. If it hadn't been for you I'd never 
got interested in tangos in the first place. You 
wouldn't stay home and I had to do something. 
(Sarcastically) Nice kind of a husband you are! 

(Jennie motions to Smith and as she goes to 
Perry, Smith goes to Marjorie.) 

Jennie. {Pleasantly to Perry — as she goes to him 
from R. of table where she has been standing) 
Perry. (Both Perry and Marjorie look at her) 
Our baby has a new tooth. Don't vou want to see 
it? 

(Simultaneously , she takes Perry's arm and Smith 
takes Marjorie's arm.) 

Smith. {Kindly and zvith a friendly smile — going 
to her) Pardon me, Marjorie, but I haven't said 
" hello " to you yet. 

Marjorie. (Lugubriously) Hello, George. 
(Then, as if appealing for sympathy and support 
as Smith shakes her hand) Don't you think Perry 
is a horrid old 

Smith. (To Marjorie, as they start leisurely* 
across R. and Jennie and Perry start leisurely up 
L.) You must have come in while I was asleep. 

Marjorie. I did. (Then lugubriously) Really, 
George, don't you think Perry's a 

(Exit Jennie and Perry into bedroom to sec the 
baby.) 

Smith. (Smiling, as if preoccupied, and uncon- 
scious of interrupting her — looking straight ahead — 
not at her) Marjorie, when I was asleep, I dreamt 
of you. 



WHAT'S WRONG. T43 

Marjokie. That's more than Perry does. 

(Smith takes hold of her arm again, reverses her 
deliberately then starts slozvly across l. zvlth 
her.) 

Smith. (Buoyantly, as they cross l.) I dreamt 
that we were out fishing — the four of us — and that 
you caught a great big fish. Oh, it was a wolloper ! 
And — and 

Marjorie. [Glancing at him suspiciously) You're 
making that up. You didn't dream about me. 

Smith, (Kindly but seriously) I did dream 
about you, but there was no fish in it. 

Marjorie. Then what'd you put one in for? 

Smith. To take your mind ofif your trouble. 
(As they cross r.) What I did dream was that you 
and Perry were still living in New York and were 
just as happy as you used to be. You were in your 
own little home and Perry had dragged me out of 
my office and there we sat at your table — you and 
he and Jennie and I. V\^e were eating berries fresh 
from your garden, and you and Perry were as happy 
as children, 

(A slight pause.) 

Marjorie. [E.vpectantly, curiously) Then what? 

Smith. I began to hear a rumbling — like 
Niagara Falls in the distance. It grew louder and 
louder. Finally it woke me. 

Marjorie. What was it? 

Smith. Your husband was introducing his hulled 
corn to Mrs. Pankhurst ! 

Marjorie. (Complainingly — and zvhimpering ) 
There you are ! I tell you, George, Perry is noth- 
incr but hulled corn! It's all he thinks of or cares 
for or 

(Smith stops her with a little gesture.) 



144 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. {Seriously, yet zvith a kindly smile) And 
you — do you really enjoy tango suppers? 

Marjorie. No, but 

Smith. Do you really enjoy wearing that kind 
of dress? 

Marjorie. No, but 

Smith. Wouldn't you rather wear one like 
Jennie is wearing? 

Marjorie. Yes, but 

Smith. Then why don't you stay here this even- 
ing and wear one of Jennie's and be comfortable. 

Marjorie. (Stubbornly) Because. 

Smith. Because why? 

Marjorie. (Firmly) Because Perry promised 
to take me. — 

Smith. (With the air of a stern father sending 
for his son zvhom he is going to punish) Tell 
Perry to come here. 

Marjorie. Why ? 

Smith. (As before — and crossing gravely r.) 
Tell him to come here. 

Marjorie. (Emphatic . and shaking her finger at 
him warningly) Now you look here, George — 
whatever you do, don't humor him. What he needs 
is a good sound^ — (Is about to say licking, but 
pauses a moment) talking to. 

Smith. (Patting her shoulder — reassuringly) 
That's what I'm going to give him. 

Marjorie. (With a tenderness bordering on 
pathos) Don't be too hard on Perry, George. He 
isn't altogether to blame. You used to be like he is 
yourself. 

Smith. (Gently and significantly) That is why 
I want to talk to him. I know how he feels. Tell 
him to come here. (Marjorie looks at him and 
then starts tozvard bed-room door. When she is 
almost at door) Marjorie? (She stops and looks 
at him) Don't tell him to come — ask him. 



WHAT'S WRONG. i45 

Makjokie. I shall tell him— and emphatically, 
too. 

{Enter Perry and Jennie from bed-room. 
Marjorie gives a swift glance at Perry and 
turns her back to him abruptly. She wants 
him to understand that all overtures of peace 
must come from him.) 

Jennie. {As they enter — to Smitei. She is much 
pleased) Perry thinks the baby looks like you, 
George. 

Smith. Thank you. Perry. 

Jennie. {Tactfully, as Perry glances worriedly 
at Marjorie's back — going to Marjorie. Then 
sweetly — ) Marjorie, you haven't seen our baby 
yet. 

Marjorie. No, but I know she doesn't look like 
George. {Glances spitefully at Perry, then starts 
independently toward bed-room. Jennie smiles 
encouragingly at Perry^ — then follows Marjorie) 

{Exit Marjorie and Jennie. Bed-room door is 
closed. ) 

Perry. {Disgusted) Can you beat that for luck! 
Here I am, all tired out — worried to death over 
business — sailing to-morrow with my hulled corn — 
{Cynically) and my wife wants me to take her to a 
tango. {Bangs table zvith fist and paces angrily) 

Smith. {Significant) Why? 

Perry. {Stopping and throwing up his arms) 
That's it- why ! The Lord only knows — I don't ! 

Smith. 1 do. {Ferry, surprised, stops and looks 
at him. Smith indicates easy-chair, as he comes 
across to lozver side of table) Sit down. 

Perry. {Irritably) I'm too busy to sit down. 
{Paces R. doggedly angry) 

Smith. Abraham Lincoln once said 



146 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Perry. (Emphatically but not stopping or looking 
at Smith) Don't tell me what he said. His wife 
never dragged him out to a tango. 

Smith. And he never tried to make the whole 
world eat corn, either. Perry, the great trouble 
with you is, everything you do you do too fast. (He 
seats Perry gently but firmly on the chair) Sit 
down. (Perry tries to rise but Smith places his 
hand on Perry's head and pushes him back) Perry, 
when I put you, stay put. (Removes hand from 
his head but holds it a few inches above head) 

Perry. (Face all screwed up) Now look here, 
George . 

Smith. What you need is calmness — and I'm 
going to give it to you. (Picks up metrenome from 
the table) 

Perry. Listen, George 

Smith. Fve been listening to you all evening, 
even in my dreams. From now on, you're going to 
listen to me. (To Agnes who enters from bed- 
room and is going tozvards dining-room) Agnes, 
heat some milk — the hotter the better. 

Agnes. How much, sir? 

Smith. A quart. 

(Exit Agnes, after glancing at Perry.) 

Perry. I didn't come here to drink hot milk ! 
(Smith begins to zmnd up metrenome) Wliat's that 
thing? 

Smith. A life saver! (Exhibiting metrenome) 
That helped to make me what I am. And look at 
me! That is my equator. (Pats his stomach 
proudly, and smiles at himself. Perry looks at 
Smith's stomach, then glances at his own. Smith 
runs his fingers through his hair, on top of head and 
holds up a handful of hair proudly by ends) And 
look at that! (Instinctively Perry puts his hand on 
top of his own head to imitate Smith. He raises 



WHAT'S WRONG. 147 

his fingers from head, as if to hold up some hair, 
but there is no hair to hold up) Have you looked 
at yourself lately? 

L'lkrv. Haven't had time. 

Smith. {Offering him the met rename) Hold this 
a moment. ( Perry takes the metrenome and 
Smith goes to bed-room door) Jennie, may I 
please have your hand-mirror? (He then opens the 
door) 

(The moment the door is opened, Marjorie 
screams; Perry springs to his feet, metrenome 
in hand. The door is quickly slammed in 
Smith's face.) 

1'eurv. [Anxiously, after the door is slammed 
shut) What's the matter? 

Smith. Your v^dfe is making herself comfortable. 
( ji:i\i\iE opens the bed-room door a few inches, 
gives Smith a hand mirror, closes the door. Smith, 
coming down zvith mirror, motions to Perry to sit 
dozun. Petulantly like a boy obeying against his 
will, he sits in easy-chair. At r. side of chair — • 
offering Perry the mirror) Look at yourself, 
(Perry takes mirror and looks at himself pathet- 
ically. With sincerity) Sanitariums are being 
built every day for just such men as you. And lots 
and lots of the boys that go into them never come 
out. I was in one, Perry — ten long weeks — after I 
left the chicken farm. Some of the boys — the older 
boys — didn't get out. {Then — patting Perry lightly 
on shoulder) It's hell, Perry. Hell! Jennie 
helped me — now Tm going to help you. {Starts the 
metrenome pendulum and takes it to the table) 

Perry. {Looking dubiously at Smith, zvho is 
placing metrenome on the table. Smith stands at 
lower side of table) That's very sweet of you, 
George, but I think I'd rather go to a sanitarium. 
(Rises cautiously, eyes fixed on Smith's back and 
looks as if he were planning to escape) 



148 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Smith. (Suddenly facing him) Take off your 
coat. Take it off. (Perry removes the coat. 
Smith then takes off his own jacket, and puts it on 
Perry. Puts Perry's coat on himself, then goes to 
metrenome and picks it up. Throughout the follow- 
ing, he unconsciously imitates Jennie — he stops the 
pendulum, then — ) Now we'll begin. (Starts 
pendulum) 

Perry. George, let's stop this nonsense and get 
down to business. The hulled-corn business 

(Smith takes him gently by the arm, and he pauses. 
They are now at l. of lozver side of table and 
facing it. Smith places metrenome on table.) 

Smith. (Perry, hereafter, when you talk — (In 
time zvith the metrenome) Talk — like — the — met — 
re — nome. When you walk — (Lets go of Perry's 
arm and paces r. slowly) Walk — like — the — met — 
re— nome. (Facing Perry, who is ivat chin g him 
closely) When you think — (Striking a meditative 
pose) Think — like — the — met — re — nome. (Then, 
as he returns to him, in time) If — you — don't — 
give — it— a — chance — I'll — wring — your — bias — ted 
— neck. 

Perry. (Persuasively. They are now face to 
face) Now listen, George — if I do everything like 
that — (Indicating metrenome) I'll go crazy. 

Smith. You'll go to sleep, and that's exactly 
what you need — lots of good wholesome sleep at 
regular hours. Begin — (Takes hold of his arm and 
begins to mark time zvith feet) One— two — three — 
four — (Sternly, to Perry, zvho isn't marking time) 
Begin! (Emphatically. He has kept right on 
marking time) One — two — three — four. (Perry 
makes a wry face and begins to mark time on 
" tzvo." He is awkzvard at first but soon gets ac- 
customed to the rhythm) One — two — three- — four. 
March! (As they cross r.) One — two — three — 
four— One — two — three — four. Count ! 



WHAT'S WRONG. 149 

Perry. Five — six — seven — eight — Five — six — 
seven — eight. {They arc now at r. zvall) 

Smith. Keep time! 

Perry. (Petulant) But 

Smith. Re^ — verse 1 (Perry attempts to reverse 
quickly but Smith yanks him back and begins to 
count) One — two — three — four. Mind] (They 
begin to reverse) 

Perry. {As they are reversing) Five — six — 
seven — eight. Vm nearly dead. 

Smith. Shut up ! March! {They start l.) One 
— two — three — four. 

Perry. For — God's — sake — who — told — you — to 
— do — this ? 

Smith. The — doctor—— 

Perry. Who — told— him ? 

Smith. My — wife. 

Perry. Who — told — her? 

Smith. No — bod — y — tells— her — any — thing — 
She — knows — ever^y — thing — in — stinc — tive — ly. 

Perry. Re — verse. 

Smith. {As they reverse, near l. tvall) One- 
two — three — four. 

Perry. Five — six — seven — eight. Can't— I — sit 
— down ? 

Smith. (.-^^' they cross r. ) No! The — best — 
thing — to — -make— a — man — for — get — his — busi- 
ness — is — a — ba— by. 

Perry. I— wish — I — had — one, — George. 

Smith. Re — verse. 

Perry. {As they reverse, near r. zvall) Five — 
six — seven — eight. I — al — wavs — want — ed — a — ba 
-by. 

Smith. {They cross l. during follozving) Why 
— don't — you — get — one ? 

Perry. Be — cause — my — wife — is — out — ev — er 
— ry — night — play — ing — bridge. 

Smith. Re — verse! 



J50 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Pekrv. (As they reverse) One — two — three — 
four. 

(Re-enter Agnes, from dining-room. She carries 
a tray upon zvhich is a large pitcher of hot milk, 
and a tumbler — also carries a long freshly 
ironed zvhite baby's dress. She places the tray 
on table and paying no attention to the tzvo 
men, goes into bedroom, closing door.) 

Smith. (As they cross r. ) Why— don't — you — 
make — your — wife — stay— home ? 

Perry. How — can — I — when— I — ne — ver^ — 

stay — home — my sel f . 

Smith. (Now at k. wall) Re — verse. 

(As they reverse — enter Marjorie and Jennie 
from bed-room. Marjorie is now clad in a 
pretty house dress — one of Jennie's — and in 
pretty house slippers. Marjorie is struck 
dumb zvith terror zvhcn she sees Perry, but 
[ennie takes in the situation. The men do not 
see them enter.) 

Perry. (As they reverse) One — two — three — • 
four. 

Marjorie. (Frightened) Perry! (Rushes to- 
zvard him. He turns his head slozvly, in time zvith 
metrenome and looks at her blankly. She stops 
near table, horrified) Perry! 

Perry. (Pacing l. zvith Smith) Hell — o — Mar 
- — jor — ie. 

(As he talks, he smiles, slowly and mechanically, as 
if keeping time to the metrenome. The men, 
now quite near Marjorie, halt. Perry con- 
tinues to mark time to metrenome, but Smith 
stands still) 

Marjorie. (To Smith— ^/^^ is all zvrought up) 



WHAT'S WRONG. 15^ 

AMiat's happened to him, Grorge? Tell me! Please! 
Is he hurt? Is he sick? 

Perry. (As before and marking time) Do — I— 
look — sick? 

Smith. (Gravely) Your husband is on the 
verge of a nervous breakdown. 

Marjorie. I knew something was the matter 
Avith him! 

Smith. He is tottering between a sanitarium 
and the grave. 

(Marjorie covers face zvith hands and sobs quietly. 
Perry stops marking time and Jennie comes to 
Marjorie to comfort her.) 

Jennie. Don't cry, dear. 

Perry. I'm all right. 

Smith. (Firmly to Perry — beginning to mark 
time) One — two — three — four. March! 

Perry. (As they march r.) Five — six — seven — - 
eight. 

Smith. [They are nozv in front of easy-chair) 
Halt! 

Perry. (Marking time, in front of chair) One— 
t wo — three — four. 

Smith. Sit — down. 

Perry. (Backing his back around to front of 
easy-chair) Five — six — seven — eight. 

Smith. Sit. 

Perry. (As he lozvers himself slozvly into chair) 
Down. 

Marjorie. (Eagerly, yet tenderly, to Smith, go- 
ing toward him) Is there anything I can do for 
him? 

Perry. (Reassuringly, as he settles back com- 
fortably in chair) I'm — all — right. 

(Marjorie glances at him and he slozvly smiles the 
" metrenome " smile. ) 



iS2 WHAT'S WRONG. 

Marjorie. Isn't there something I can do? 
Anything ! 
Smith. Yes. 
Marjorie. What? 

(Smith glances at Perry then takes Marjorie 
gently by the arm and starts gravely across r.) 

Perry. One — two — three — four — I — can't — stop 
—at — all — now. 

{Instinctively Smith slackens his natural gait to fit 
the metrenome's rhythm and Marjorie fol- 
lows suit. They take two steps in metrenome 
time. Jennie is at table, filling a tumbler with 
hot milk, sees their predicament and stops the 
metrenome's pendulum. Smith and Marjorie 
then resume their natural gait.) 

Marjorie. Tell me. What can I do to help him? 

Jennie. (Quietly) George. (He looks at her. 
She picks up tumbler of hot milk, starts toward 
him. He meets her and she gives him the tumbler. 
She then feels of it, as she felt of the baby's bottle) 
[ust right — not too warm. 

(Smith goes to Perry and Jennie to Marjorie.) 

Jennie. (To Marjorie) Do you really want to 
help your husband? 

Marjorie. Of course I do! And I want George 
to tell me how. 

Jennie. I will tell you how. 

Smith. (Imitating Jennie by feeling tumbler 
which he has just handed to Perry) Just right — 
not too warm. 

(During the folloiving Perry sips milk slowly and 
between sips smiles contendedly front.) 



WHAT'S WRONG. 153 

Marjorie. (Impatiently, as Jennie escorts her 
R.) Tell me, Jennie! Tell me I How can I help 
Perry! 

Jennie. (Confidentially and very seriously) Go 
and see " What's Wrong " at the Belasco Theatre. 

Marjorie. But I want to know now — right now. 

(Jennie glances at the two men. They are not 
listening. ) 

Jennie. What is your position on the baby ques- 
tion? (Marjorie is puzzled. Smith begins to 
unlace one of Perry's shoes) Are you in favor of 
babies or against them? 

Marjorie. (Very much puzzled — after slight 
pause) Why? 

(Perry is oblivious to everything but his hot milk, 
which he is enjoying.) 

Jennie. George. 

Smith. Yes, dear. 

Jennie. Will you please let Perry hold our baby 
a while? 

Smith. (Very sweetly — an object lesson to 
Perry) Yes, dear. (Goes off for baby) 

Jennie. George knows what the tired business 
man neds. 

(Re-enter Smith with the baby. Baby has on its 
new bonnet and the wonderful dress Agnes 
carried into the bedroom. Jennie meets 
Smith near easy-chair and he gives her the 
baby.) 

Jennie. (To Perry) Would you like to hold 
her, or shall I send for the basanet ? 

(Perry, his face beaming, holds out his arms and 



M U%i 



,54 WHATS WRONG. 

takes the baby. He smiles at it, then draws it 
Howh and affectionately closer. Every one 
watches him. Smith smiles the sympathetic 
unile of a man who knows the wonderful joys 
of fatherhood. Agnes is smiling the smile^ of 
a proud nurse girl. Marjorie is not smiling. 
She is marvelling at the happy expression on 
her husband's face as he gazes doivn at the 
little bundle in his arms. It is an expres- 
sion she never saw before, and her own 
expression shoivs that she understands. ^ M h 
K N O JV S. A pause.) 

Perry Isn't it great! I would rather have a 
little girl like you, than all the money in the world. 



(] 



:nnie and Smith glance sigmficantly at 
Marjorie, as much as to say: Well its up 
to you now! " Then Marjorie goes slozvly to 
Pfkry and lays her hand gently upon his 
shoulder. Slight pause, during zvhich Marjorie 
and Perry ga-e into each other's eyes, txtt 
Agnes, quietly, bedroom.) 

Martorie. Perry, let's not go to Europe! 
tired out. It's too much for you. 
George. 
Yes. 

Tm not going to Europe. 
Where are you going? 

Home. ^ , o ^^1 

Aren't you afraid of the Seattle 



You're al 
Perry. 
Smith 
Perry. 
Smith 
Perry. 
Smith 

Spirit 



. ..., J I had a little fairy like this -waiting 
for me at home. I'd not be afraid of anything. {Me 
looks at Marjorie and she takes his face gently be- 
tween her hands and kisses him) 

(JENNIE, at folding doors, opens them a trifle, peeps 



WHAT'S WRONG. I55 

in, sees that dinner is ready, then throzvs the 
doors zvide open. Tillie is dressed for service 
and the table is beautifully set for four people 
— decorated with country flowers and the 
shaded candles are lighted.) 

Jennie. Dinner is ready! 
(Perry rises with the baby in his arms, and 
escorted by Marjorie starts toward dining- 
room. Smith turns out the lamp on table, 
then goes up. The living room is now dark 
and the dining-room brilliantly lighted. Out- 
side the country insects are having a merry 
time. ) 

CURTAIN. 



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